Never Feel Alone
by SpectraVondergeist
Summary: Callie and Sophia Jacob find safety and acceptance with the warm, kind Fosters. But they're hiding a painful secret that could ruin their chance at happiness. To protect herself, Callie vows not to fall in love with them. Easier said than done. (AU- my take on The Fosters if Callie grew up with Sophia instead of Jude. Lots of Callie and Stef.)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: this story is exploring how The Fosters might have been different if it were Callie and Sophia, instead of Callie and Jude. Enjoy! I do not own The Fosters or any of the characters.  
**

_"Three things cannot be hidden long: the sun, the moon, and the truth." -Buddha_

Chapter 1.

**Callie**

"You coming, girls?" Bill called.

I turned to him and nodded. "Be right there." I turn back to Sophia, lowering my voice to a whisper. "Remember. Don't talk to anyone about what happened at Brian's house, even if they ask. Just forget it ever happened."

"But how can I forget?" my little sister, Sophia asked. Her big brown eyes were watery, as if she were going to cry. I'd learned to save my tears for my pillow long ago.

"Do you _want_ to get separated?" I asked her. "Because that's what will happen." I knew I was bullying her, but I had no choice. It was for her own good. _Our_ own good.

"But Callie-"

"No," I said. "Look. I know it's hard, but you know that no one will ever want us if they find out." I took a half-used school notebook from my backpack, and thrust it at her. "Here. If you ever feel like you want to talk about it, just write about it instead."

Sophia nodded and took the notebook, and slipped it into her own bag. "Thanks."

My heart softened, and I leaned down to hug her. "Don't worry, baby. I'm gonna make sure everything turns out okay. Haven't I always taken care of you?" I winced, knowing there was one time I didn't. And look where it got us. "I love you," I told her, kissing her soft chestnut hair.

"I love you too," Sophia said, clinging to me. I hugged her tighter. She was my whole world. I hated forcing her to lie. But I knew she'd thank me one day.

"Girls, I'm serious," Bill said, coming toward us. "I'm on a schedule. We have to go."

I winked at Sophia, and then we climbed into the back of the dark-colored county car that smelled like cold french fries inside.

Bill sat in the driver's seat, occasionally looking back at us to talk. "This is the end of the road, girls," he said. "I need you to be on your best behavior. I was lucky to find a family who is willing to take both of you. It wasn't easy with your track record. I don't want it to happen, but I can't guarantee that you won't be separated next time."

As Bill spoke, Sophia grabbed my hand in her smaller, sweaty hand, squeezing my fingers. I knew she was scared, and I squeezed her fingers back to reassure her. "Do they know about... _the Brian thing?_" I asked. My tongue stuck, even though I was trying to play it cool.

Bill shook his head. "I don't know."

We weren't named in the newspaper, because we were minors. "You didn't tell them?"

"Sometimes, in my line of work," he went on, "it's in the best interest of the children to sweep certain things under the rug. Give them a fresh start." He pulled into a driveway that led to a brown house with sloping roofs and a swing on the porch. It was set back from the street by a manicured lawn. It was pretty. _Definitely rich people_, I thought to myself.

"This is only temporary," Bill reminded us. Particularly Sophia, who tended to get attached to the good families, and always ended up hurt when things went bad. "Just until I find you a permanent home, or Callie ages out of the system. Whichever comes first. But you'll be safe here. The Fosters are good people, who love kids."

I said nothing as he popped the trunk and took out the two black trash bags that held our belongings. Taking Sophia's hand, we followed our social worker to the front door. He rand the doorbell, and we waited. Moments later, the dark, heavy door opened. A tall, beautiful woman with skin the color of hot cocoa, and messy curls piled on top of her head answered the door. She smiled, showing perfect white teeth. "Hi, Bill. Please, come in."

Bill stepped over the threshold, but we didn't move from the porch.

"You too, girls," the woman urged. "I'm Lena Adams." She held out her hand for us to shake.

_Adams?_ I wrinkled my brow in confusion. "I thought we were gonna be staying with the Fosters," I said, wondering if Bill had taken us to the wrong house.

"My partner's last name," Lena clarified. "She's at work. She should be home in an hour or so."

"So, you're dykes?" Now it made sense, why Bill wanted us to be placed here so badly. No male authority figures. I silently thanked him for at least trying to protect us.

Bill gave me a sharp look. _"Callie."_ He turned to Lena. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "She needs to work on her manners."

"It's okay," Lena smiled. "I understand."

"This is Callie Jacob," he said. I flinched when he placed his hand on my shoulders. The bruises I hid under my sports bra still hurt like a bitch. "She's sixteen years old."

"Glad to meet you, Callie," said Lena. I could feel her eyes linger over my split lip and bruised cheek, and for a moment, I felt self-conscious, because she was so pretty.

"You too," I said politely. Her dark brown eyes reminded me of my mom's eyes. They held the same warmth.

"And this is Sophia Jacob," said Bill. "She's twelve."

Sophia waved, smiling. "Hi."

"Nice to meet you, honey. Wow. I can tell you two are sisters!"

Sophia and I did look alike. Everyone said so. Bill set our bags in the doorway and cleared his throat.

"Girls," said Lena. "You must be hungry. I set out some snacks and lemonade on the kitchen table for you. Help yourselves. I want you to make yourselves at home."

I looked at my sister. "Go ahead," Bill told us. We walked shyly to the other room.

There were cheese and crackers on a platter. Weird, healthy crackers with seedy things in them. Sophia dug in right away. The food at the group home where we were staying wasn't great. I let her eat while I nibbled on a piece of cheese, straining my ears to listen to what Bill and Lena were saying.

"They're good girls," he said. "They really are. But I'm in a bind with them. They're all each other has, and they're at risk of separation. They've had some bad luck. They've been through a lot."

"What exactly have they been through?" Lena asked. I nearly swallowed my tongue.

"They've been shuffled around a lot," he explained. "Callie has a bit of an attitude problem. And there was an accident in their most recent home."

"An accident?" She furrowed her brow.

Not knowing what else to do, I ran back into the living room. "Bill, they have an awesome back yard!"

He looked at his watch. "That's great, Callie. I really have to go. Good luck. I'll check on you in a few days." He looked up at Lena. "Thanks for taking them on short notice. I owe you."

"It's no problem," she said. "We're happy to have them."

"Bye, Sophia," he called to my sister. "Good luck."

I watched him drive away. Luck had nothing to do with it.

**To Be Continued**


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: Thanks for the reviews and follows! I read and appreciate every one!**

Chapter 2.

**Callie**

"Would you like to help me set the table, sweets?" Lena asked Sophia.

Sophia nodded. She seemed more relaxed now. "Sure." She went to our new foster mother and took a stack of dishes from her. She held them so tight, her knuckles were white. I watched her set the stack on the table, and carefully set a plate at each place, chewing her lower lip. Her relaxed demeanor was gone. I could see the tension in her shoulders. These were nice dishes, and she was terrified that she would accidentally break one and get the snot beat out of her.

"Let me help you," I offered, feeling sorry for her. I took the dishes. There were a lot of them. I silently counted. One for me, Sophia, Lena, her partner, and... three more. So they had three kids. They probably weren't in the market for any more. I was sorting the silverware when the back door opened and closed.

"Hey, kids," Lena smiled. Two out of the three of the kids waved at her. They both had dark hair and eyes. They looked alike. Natural siblings, like me and Sophia. "I want you to meet our house guests. This is Callie, and Sophia. They're going to be staying with us for a while."

The girl studied me up and down, as if she didn't trust me.

Lena turned to us. "Girls, this is our son, Jesus, and our daughter, Mariana. They're fifteen."

Just then, another teenage boy came into the room. A cute teenage boy, with wavy brown hair and eyes the color of green sea glass. "This is our oldest, Brandon," Lena told us. "Callie, you and Brandon will be in the same grade at school, so he can show you around."

I nodded, a little sorry I swore off boys recently. "Cool."

"Who are they?" Brandon asked his mom.

"Callie and Sophia Jacob," Lena reminded him. "Bill brought them by today."

"Oh yeah," he nodded. "I forgot they were coming today." He reached across the table and served us each a piece of lasagna. I picked at the food, my stomach in knots.

"Jesus and Mariana were in the foster system too," Lena told us as she ate. "We formally adopted them about five years ago."

Sophia smiled, but her face looked sad. I looked down at my food, avoiding her eyes. "How old were you guys when you went into foster care?" she asked.

"Five," said Jesus, stuffing a hunk of garlic bread into his mouth.

Lena raised an eyebrow at him. "Please don't talk with your mouth full, buddy."

"Sorry," he mumbled, swallowing. "How about you guys?"

"I was six, and Callie was ten," she told him. "Hey... are you guys twins?"

Jesus nodded, then turned his attention to me. "What happened to your face?"

Lena shook her head. "Jesus, please. Let Callie eat without an interrogation."

"I got into a fight," I told him. My busted lip caused me to lisp slightly, and my stringy brown hair made a curtain around my face. I reached for my water glass and took a sip, hoping he would drop the subject.

"Did you win?"

"Uh, no, I didn't." My arm jerked, and the glass tipped over. Water puddled in the middle of the table, soaking the garlic bread. Lena jumped up immediately and grabbed a handful of napkins.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, angry at myself for screwing up when I had barely been in the house for an hour. My body tensed, and I waited for the slap I had coming to me. It never came.

"Don't worry about it, sweets," said Lena, giving me a look of sympathy. A mom look, I thought. "Accidents happen." She mopped up the spill and threw the napkins away.

I wondered what kind of foster home this was. At Brian's house, I would've been licking the water up, or something humiliating like that. I pushed thoughts of Brian out of my head as my food churned in my stomach. He was gone. He couldn't hurt us anymore.

Everyone went back to eating when the back door burst open again. "Hello, my loves!" a voice cried.

"Callie and Sophia, this is my partner, Stef Foster," Lena said. She stood up to kiss her.

My eyes widened. Holy shit! She was a cop.

I saw the color drain from my sister's face, and her eyes fixated on the gun in Stef's holster. I reached under the table to hold her hand, like I always did. It was our special signal, to let her know that she was safe as long as I was there. But before I could take her hand, Stef came up to us, smiling. "Hi, girls. I hope you're ready for this crazy house."

Sophia's eyes were still glued to the gun. She jumped up, knocking her chair over, and backed away. "Sophia," I sighed. "Wait." She was already down the hall.

"I'll check on her," Lena offered, setting down her napkin.

"No," I said, more forcefully than I meant to. "Let me. She's my sister." She was my responsibility. She had been since I was ten. I knew how to take care of her.

I followed the hall to the bathroom and tried the knob. It was locked. "Soph," I said, knocking. "It's just me. Open up." I could hear her crying behind the door. "Please, baby," I sighed. "I promise, it's okay."

Stef joined me seconds later. "Was it something I said?" She seemed hurt, and I felt a little sorry for her.

I shook my head. "No," I said quietly. "It's what you are."

She studied me, confused.

"She's just afraid of cops," I explained. "It's nothing personal."

Stef nodded knowingly. "I see." She knocked softly on the door. "Sophia, love? I didn't mean to scare you. But I wasn't going to hurt you. I need you to open the door. Yes?"

The door opened a crack, and I barged in and took Sophia in my arms. "It's okay," I told her.

"Honey, I'm a nice cop," Stef told Sophia. "I promise, you're safe here." She brushed a tear from my sister's face.

Sophia flinched. "Get that gun away from me."

Stef looked down at her belt. "Okay. I will go lock it up right now. Will that make you feel safer?"

She nodded against my chest.

"Okay, then I will," she smiled. She turned to me. "Can you take it from here, Callie?"

"Yeah," I said, shaking my head.

"Way to play it cool," I whispered, once Stef was out of earshot. I ruffled her hair to let her know I wasn't mad.

"I just panicked," she sniffled, her breathing slowing. "Callie, we have to get out of here. She's a cop! What if this is a set-up?'

I didn't tell her that the thought had crossed my mind too. "It can't be," I said, trying to think logically. "What happened was ruled an accident. Remember?" I lowered my voice even more. "We just need to be extra careful. No taking chances." I took her chin in my hand and kissed her cheek. "I love you, baby girl. And I won't let anything bad happen to us. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she said. "I love you too, Callie." She hugged me tighter for a moment.

"Come on," I said. "We better go back."

* * *

After dinner, I took a bath in Stef and Lena's bathroom. The water felt good, and I scrubbed my skin until it was pink and sore, trying to get as clean as I could on the outside. No amount of soap could make me feel clean on the inside. When I stepped out of the tub, I stood in front of the mirror and dried off, smoothing my freshly washed hair until it looked halfway decent. When it dried, it would be soft and wavy.

I jumped when I saw Stef's reflection behind me, standing in the bathroom doorway. Her hand was over her mouth. "What do you think you're doing!" I cried, wrapping a towel around myself. My face reddened. I knew she'd seen the bruises on my back, ribs, shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Callie," Stef said. "I didn't mean to walk in on you. I just wanted to leave you some pajamas and a toothbrush. Sophia said you didn't have one." She came closer. "Oh, honey... who did that to you?"

Stef was kind of pretty when she was dressed in normal clothes, with her blond hair loose. Her eyes were the same shade of green as Brandon's. She looked as if she wanted to cry. Over _me_. Seeing her like that, it would have been easy to forget she was a cop.

"No one," I lied. "I'm fine." I smiled to prove it. "I'm just clumsy."

"Callie, we want you and your sister to feel safe here," she said, without even trying to hide the fact that she didn't believe my story. "If you ever want someone to talk to, you can come to me or Lena. Whether it's about... how you got those bruises, or anything else. We'll listen to you."

She looked me straight in the eye and smiled softly. There was something about her face that made me want to crawl into her arms and let her hold me, something I hadn't done since my mother was alive. I was way too old for that stuff now, and I had too much to hide. When she reached out to stroke my hair, I bristled under her touch. "Could I get some privacy? Please," I added.

"Of course you can," she said. "The pajamas are right on the counter. They're an old pair of mine. They might be a little loose on you, but they should do until we can get you some new clothes."

New clothes? I raised my eyebrow.

"Goodnight, honey," she said, before turning away and closing the door behind her.

**To Be Continued**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

**Callie**

"Stef wouldn't hurt a fly," Lena was telling Sophia. I paused in the bathroom doorway and listened. "She has the biggest, kindest heart I've ever known. You don't have to be afraid of her, sweets."

"I'm sorry," my sister apologized.

"Did something scary happen to you that made you afraid of cops?" she pressed.

"It's not so much cops," Sophia confided. "It's mostly guns..."

I cleared my throat just then, to get their attention before she said something she'd regret. "You can take your bath now, Soph."

"Okay," she said. She looked up at Lena. "Thanks. For talking to me."

"Any time, love," Lena smiled. She rubbed Sophia's arm. "Go ahead and get your bath."

Sophia went to the bathroom carrying her new toothbrush and towel.

"She's a sweet girl," Lena told me. "I feel bad that she got so upset at dinner."

I nodded. "She didn't mean it. She's just like that sometimes. She's..."

"Been through a lot?"

"I was going to say _sensitive_," I shrugged.

"Bill mentioned an accident. In your last home?" Lena quietly asked. "What happened?"

"Look," I said. "I don't want to talk about it."

Before she could ask another nosy question, Mariana came into the room carrying a bundle of clothes.

"Hey there, Miss Thing," Lena smiled. "Oh good. You found some PJs." She took the clothes from her daughter and held them up. "They should fit Sophia."

Mariana glanced at me, then turned to her mother. "Mama, how long are they gonna be here?" she whispered. She thought she was being quiet enough that I couldn't hear. But I could. I made my face go blank so she wouldn't know how strange her words made me feel.

"I don't know for sure, sweets," Lena told her. "Indefinitely. So, I want you to start making room in your bedroom tomorrow."

"I have to share my room?" Mariana cried. "With _both_ of them? But that's not fair!"

Lena gave me an apologetic look. "Callie, honey, could you step outside a minute?"

I shrugged. "Whatever." I had Mariana pegged from the moment I saw her: spoiled, bratty, princess. I sank down to the floor in the hall, feeling like crap. I could still hear them talking through the wall.

"Life isn't fair," Lena said patiently. "Mari, don't you remember how it felt to be in a strange place, scared, with nothing of your own?"

"But everyone else will have their own room but me!" she insisted. "This sucks! I wish they never came here."

"She can hear you," Lena snapped. "I need you to take a deep breath and calm down for me."

"I don't care if she hears," she pouted. "They're weird. I won't share my room with them!" She stormed out of the room without looking at me, and went to her own room, slamming the door so hard the pictures on the wall shook. I sat alone, my eyes stinging.

"Callie, honey." Lena was standing over me. "I'm so sorry you had to hear that."

"Look, we'll just go," I said softly. "I don't want to cause trouble for you guys. You can call Bill tomorrow."

"I most certainly will _not_," she said, sinking down beside me. "You and your sister aren't going anywhere. Mariana really is a sweetheart, I promise. She's just a little high strung sometimes. She didn't mean the things she said."

"It sure sounded like she did."

"We love Mariana dearly, but it won't hurt her to find out she's not the only pebble on the beach," Lena told me, patting my hand. "Stef and I _want_ you girls here. And that's all that matters."

_They wouldn't want us if they knew what we did_, I thought to myself. "Where are we sleeping tonight?" I asked, changing the subject.

"You can sleep on the couch until we get some beds,"she said. "We have a sectional. It's pretty comfortable."

"That works," I said.

* * *

**Lena**

"I feel terrible for those girls," Stef told me, as she ran a brush through her golden hair. "They're in so much pain. You can see it in their faces."

It was my favorite time of day, when Stef and I would unwind and talk things over- the kids, work, our day- whatever was on our minds, before we went to bed. "I wish we knew what made them that way," I said, mournfully. From the moment I saw those doe-eyed girls on our doorstep, my heart melted. "I wish we could help them."

"I walked in on Callie drying off after her bath," Stef revealed, sitting down on the bed and looking me in the eye. "She's covered in bruises. She made some lame excuse when I asked her about them... told me she's just clumsy."

I studied my wife, intrigued. We both knew that wasn't true.

"You don't get bruises like that by just bumping into walls or something," Stef said, completing my thought. "You get them from human hands. Someone beat her."

I nodded, recalling Callie mentioning a fight at dinner. "I'd like to get her checked out at the doctor, just to make sure she's okay. If she'll let us." She was so guarded. I doubted she would go without a fight.

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this," Stef promised.

I knew she would.

* * *

**Callie**

"Come here, pretty girl," I said to Sophia, sitting behind her on the couch. "Let me comb your hair." I began working my comb through her wet, tangled hair, starting at the ends. I thought about my mom while I worked. When we were little, she'd sit behind me, and I'd sit behind Sophia. She'd comb my hair while I combed my sister's. My dark hair went to my waist back then. But out first foster mom chopped it short, because she said long hair was too hard to take care of. I've kept it short ever since.

"Do you like Stef and Lena?" Sophia suddenly asked.

I paused at the damp knot I was working on. "I guess so. They're okay."

"I like them," she told me. "They're nice. And pretty."

"Don't like them too much," I warned her. I repeated Bill's words. "This is only temporary."

"But what if this place is different...?" she said, her voice trailing off.

I chewed my lip, focusing on combing. I'd seen my sister cry too many times after we were rejected by people she cared about. I used to get upset too, until I realized it was a lot easier not to care at all. Sophia cared too much.

Finished with her hair, I wrapped my arms around her and tickled her ribs. She laughed as I pulled her down on the couch with me. "We've got each other," I said. "That's all we need."

"But don't you wish we had a family?" she asked me.

"We _are_ a family," I told her. She laid down on one end of the sectional, and I laid down on the other, so we were head to head.

"Maybe we should just tell them about the Brian thing," she said softly. "Maybe they would understand?"

"You know we can't take that risk," I replied. "We haven't even known these people a day." Maybe they _wouldn_'t understand? I didn't even want to think about what would happen. Sweet, innocent Sophia would never last in juvie. And I'd be stuck in a crappy group home, alone, unable to take care of her like I promised her I always would. We wouldn't have a chance.

"But wouldn't it be nice to get it off our chests?" she asked. "To not have to hide it anymore?"

I bit my split lip and it throbbed. I thought about what it would be like _not_ to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders. "No," I decided. "You promised me you wouldn't say anything, Soph."

"I wasn't really _going_ to," she said defensively. "I was just thinking about it."

* * *

_My lips still tasted like Ben's when I got to the back porch. I sighed to myself, taking my time finding my keys in my bag and sneaking in the door. I knew I was just stalling before I had to go back to my real life, but I didn't want to let the evening slip away just yet. _

_I went inside and looked around the house. It was quiet. Way too quiet. The dinner dishes were still on the kitchen table. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Sophia should have been in the kitchen, doing the dishes, like she did every night. Where was she?_

_"Soph?" I called. "Sophia?" I didn't care if I got caught anymore. Nothing mattered. My heart pounded in my chest. If something happened to my baby sister, it would be my fault. All my fault. I'd never forgive myself..._

I'd been in a half-asleep state for what seemed like hours now. It was always hard to fall asleep in a new place, no matter how many times I'd done it. Every house had it's own night sounds, and I'd never been in any one house long enough to get used to them. So I kind of dangled between sleeping and being awake, unable to stop my memories of _that_ night from playing in my head, like a movie I didn't want to watch.

Sophia wasn't helping much, either. I could feel her wriggling, whimpering softly in her sleep. I peeked back. Her old stuffed horse was clutched to her chest; she'd always loved horses, and even though I'd combed her hair, it was already tangled around her face. "Sophia?" I whispered. I reached out to shake her shoulder. "Wake up."

She stopped moving and opened her eyes, which were wet with tears. I could see them shining in the dark "Callie?"

"You were having a nightmare, baby," I told her. "It was just a dream."

"I'm scared," she said. "My stomach hurts."

I moved as close to the back of the couch as I could. "Come snuggle with me."

Without answering, she rolled off her side of the couch and cuddled beside me. I hugged her close, breathing in her familiar Sophia-scent. "What were you dreaming about?" I whispered.

She didn't answer right away. Somewhere upstairs I could hear a TV, the volume turned very low. "I dreamed Stef arrested me," she finally admitted.

I kissed her forehead and ran my fingers through her hair. "Do you still want to tell them about the Brian thing now?"

"No," she said, shaking her head against my chest.

"Go to sleep," I said. "No one is arresting you. I'm right here." I gave her another kiss and wiped her tears away. "I love you." I wouldn't make her keep a secret like that if I didn't.

"Love you," she said.

I laid wide awake in the dark, holding her as she drifted back to sleep.

**To Be Continued- what do you think so far? What do you want to see happen in this story? Thanks for reading and reviewing! Love you all.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

**Callie**

I must have drifted off sometime during the night. When I woke up, Sophia was gone, and I could smell food and hear voices coming from the kitchen. Stretching, I rolled off the couch and went to find her.

"Good morning, Callie," Stef smiled, turning to face me. "Did you sleep okay?"

"I guess so," I shrugged. I wondered why she wasn't in her cop uniform.

Sophia was sitting at the table, picking at a stack of pancakes. I kissed the top of her head.

"Help yourself to whatever you want, sweets," Lena told me.

I went to the counter and poured myself a cup of coffee from the pot on the counter. Stef and Lena looked at each other and raised their eyebrows, but didn't say anything.

"Was I not supposed to take this?" I asked, setting the mug down.

Lena shook her head. "You're fine, honey. We usually don't allow our kids to have coffee, but I guess it's okay this one time."

"Do you want some cream or sugar?" Stef asked me.

"Nah," I said, going to the table and sitting down next to my sister.

"Mariana, I want you to start working on your bedroom right after school," Lena told her daughter. "I'm serious. The beds are being delivered tomorrow."

Mariana rolled her eyes, then put her plate in the sink and rushed out the door. "This isn't over, young lady," Stef called after her.

Lena and the other kids head to school, leaving me and Sophia alone with Stef. "So, here are the plans for today," she told us. "I scheduled both of you to have a physical this morning, and then we'll do some shopping afterward."

"I'm not going to the doctor," I said. I felt the bruises under my shirt ache.

"It's not an option, love," she replied. "We need to make sure you're healthy before we enroll you in school."

"We've had our shots," I told her. "It's not like we have rabies or anything."

Stef suppressed a laugh. "Honey, you're going to the doctor. I took a day off of work, and it's all set. We were lucky to get you both in on short notice."

"Come on, Callie," Sophia pleaded. "Just go. Please?" She looked to me desperately; she wanted our foster mom's approval so badly.

So I gave in. "Fine. I'll go."

"Good girl," Stef nodded. She looked at my sister and frowned. "Aren't you hungry, kiddo? Would you like something else?"

She shook her head. "I'm not hungry. My stomach hurts."

Stef laid her hand on Sophia's forehead; something a mom would do. "You don't feel warm. Good thing we're going to the doctor's today, huh?"

* * *

After breakfast, Stef took me aside. "Callie," she whispered. "I know you're probably worried about the doctor seeing those bruises on your body."

I felt my face heat up as she looked me in the eye.

"I understand that, but I don't want you to worry, okay? I'll be right there with you, and our doctor is very nice. But I did schedule you an x-ray, just to make sure you're not injured."

"I'm not... injured," I told her. "I'm fine. I never get sick."

"Well, it's better to be safe than sorry," she replied.

I wished someone had told me that a long time ago.

* * *

We arrived at the doctor's office about a half hour later, and she took us in right away.

"Girls, this is Dr. Frank," Stef told us. "She's been our family doctor for many years. Dr. Frank, these are our newest additions, Callie and Sophia."

"Nice to meet you," the doctor smiled. She was short. Shorter than me, with dark, curly hair. She examined Sophia first, taking her blood pressure, shining a light in her eyes. Sophia sat rigid, politely answering when the young woman talked to her.

She looked me over next, just like she had my sister. Then she took two faded gowns from a cupboard and gave one to each of us. "Girls, I need you to strip down to your underwear and put these on, with the opening facing in back. Okay?"

I felt dizzy, like I might faint. I closed my eyes, trying to pull myself together as my line of vision narrowed. I knew what it was; it was a panic attack. I'd learned the signs from the counselor I saw at the group home when we stayed there.

"I'll give you girls some privacy," the doctor said. "I'll check on you shortly."

"Stef, I can't do this," I said, turning to her. "Please don't make me do this." A lump formed in my throat and I couldn't swallow.

Stef's face was drawn. To me, it looked like she was regretting making us come. "I'm sorry, love. I know it's scary, but it's better to get it over with." She held her arms out. "Come here."

I stood still, not moving. Finally, she reached out and put her arms around my stiff body. It felt awkward and unfamiliar, but good. "I don't know who or what you're afraid of," she whispered. "But I will not let anything happen to you. You won't have to answer any questions you don't want to, and I won't leave your side for a minute. You can trust me."

I nodded weakly, and she let me go. She pointed to the bathroom that was attached to the room. "Go ahead and change. I'll be right out here if you need me."

"I'm scared," Sophia told me, once we'd locked ourselves in the tiny room. "I don't want to do this."

"Me either," I admitted, my heart thumping so loud in my chest that I was sure she could hear it. I watched her undress as I pulled my own shirt over my head. Her thighs and stomach were marked with pale bruises, but they weren't nearly as bad as mine. Mine were kind that brought social workers out. I looked at my reflection in the mirror above the sink, and before I could stop myself, I started crying.

"Callie," Sophia said, coming to my side. Her gown was baggy around her skinny body. Gently, she rubbed my back. "Don't cry, sissy. Please." She hadn't called me 'sissy' in years. She wet a paper towel and used it to wash my face for me. "It's okay." She hugged me and kissed my bruised cheek. She rarely saw me cry. I knew I was scaring her.

Stef knocked on the bathroom door. "Are you girls okay in there?"

"We're fine," I called, finally starting to get my breathing in check. "We'll be out in a minute." I took off my jeans, so I was left in my saggy, frayed underwear, and slipped on the ugly gown.

I knew that Stef could tell I'd been crying by the way she looked at me. She laid her hand over mine while we waited for Dr. Frank to come back.

Finally, she did. She checked our backs for scoliosis, and she listened to our lungs. "You have some pretty bad bruises, Callie," she told me, as she ran the cold stethoscope down my back.

I shivered at her touch. "I don't want to talk about it."

"We're dealing with the situation," Stef put in, moving closer to me and putting her hand on my shoulder.

Dr. Frank nodded. "I know Callie and Sophia are in good hands with you and Lena."

"Thank you," she smiled. "We're happy to have them with us, for however long that may be."

* * *

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Stef said, when we got to the car.

"What did the doctor write about us?" Sophia asked, trying to sneak a peek at the paper Dr. Frank had given our foster mom on the way out.

"It says you're basically healthy," she told us. "Sophia, your vitamin D levels are a little low. We'll pick you up some vitamins today. And Callie, you have some rib contusions."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"It means your ribs are bruised," she told me. "But they'll heal. It also says you have an old wrist fracture that healed well. What happened there? Do you remember?"

"Foster home number three," I answered without going into detail. But in my mind, I saw my former foster mom grabbing my arm and throwing me down the back steps.

"Neither of you have anything lots of love won't cure," Stef assured us with a wink, looking back at us in the rear-view mirror.

We drove for a while, until she pulled into a Target parking lot. "Ready to shop, ladies?"

"We get to shop in a real store?" Sophia asked. I laughed a little, starting to feel better; Sophia was used to shopping at secondhand stores or getting my hand-me-downs. I was glad she was finally getting something new, something of her very own. I hoped she would be allowed to keep it when we left.

"We sure do, my love," Stef answered, grabbing her purse and leading us inside.

"Why don't we pick out an outfit for each of you to wear on your first day of school?" she suggested when we reached the clothing department. "And I noticed your underwear looked worn out, so we'll grab you each some new panties and socks."

We shopped for a long time, wandering around the clothing racks. I'd already found a pair of jeans and I was looking through the tops.

"That's cute," Stef said, noticing a t-shirt I was looking at. It was gray, with an owl on the front.

"It's too much," I said, studying the price tag.

"But it's you," she insisted. "And it's on sale. At least try it on?"

"Well, okay," I said, giving in.

When I stepped out of the changing rooms, Stef stood behind me in the long mirror. She pulled my hair back from my face and smiled. "Callie, you are a beautiful girl."

"I don't feel beautiful," I confided. It was probably the most personal thing I'd ever told her.

"Nonsense," she said, brushing my words away. "Look at those eyes, and those cheekbones. Do you know how many women would kill for your eyebrows?"

Standing there in the mirror, I felt myself tear up again.

"What is it, baby?" she whispered.

"Nothing," I said, turning away. But she brought me to the bench and held my hands.

"I wish you would open up to us, love. You would feel so, _so_ much better."

"I can't," I said.

"At least tell me this," she bargained. "Who gave you those bruises? I know someone put their hands on you, Callie."

I chewed my sore lip, trying to avoid her gaze. But I couldn't. It was as if she could see into my soul.

"Please, love?"

"It was my foster dad," I admitted. I immediately wished I could take my words back. I'd practically threatened Sophia to keep her mouth shut about our past, and here, it was _me_ who was blabbing. I felt like a traitor.

Stef nodded. "I think we should report him to social services before he hurts another child, don't you?"

"We can't," I told her.

"Callie, I have no choice," she insisted. "He shouldn't be allowed to foster. He should be in prison."

"No" I sighed angrily. "You don't understand. We _can't_ report him. He's dead."

**To Be Continued**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

**Callie**

"He's dead?" Stef asked, taken aback. "How did he die?"

I looked away. I couldn't look her in the eye and lie to her. "He was drunk," I told her. "He came home mad, beat me, then took off in his car. He got into an accident, and he just died." I shrugged as if to say that there was nothing left to tell. I hoped she wouldn't look into my story somehow.

"Thanks goodness you and your sister weren't in the car," she said. She slipped my hand into hers and squeezed my fingers.

The thing about lies is that they get easier each time you tell one. It scared me how hard it was to lie to Stef.

"Well," she said, as if coming out of a trance. "Is this the outfit you want, baby? It certainly looks adorable on you."

I felt weird about taking from her after she'd been so nice to me and I'd been dishonest with her. But if I didn't take it, she would know something was up. And I _did_ want the clothes. "Yeah. I mean, if it's okay with you?"

She smiled. "It's fine with me. I would be disappointed if you _didn't_ get it." She patted my knee, then stood up. "Should we go track down your sister?"

"Okay," I nodded.

Sophia was still in the changing rooms. "Did you find anything, love?" Stef asked her.

She peeked out from the stall. "I can't decide which top to get." She looked to me. "Callie, you decide."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said. "Please?"

I looked at each of the tops carefully. "I like this one," I said, holding up a pink shirt with some crocheted lace at the sleeves. It wasn't anything I would wear, but I picked it with her in mind.

"I like it too," she smiled. She looked up at Stef. "Can I please get it?"

Stef looked at the price tag. "Sure, I don't see why not. Toss it in the cart."

After we picked out socks and underwear, we wandered around the store for a while. Eventually we made it to the toy section. I saw Sophia's eyes go to the Barbie dolls right away. I happened to know she loved them, even though she was ashamed to admit that she still played with them at twelve. When I looked back again, she was way behind us, still looking at the display.

"Soph?" said Stef, turning around. "There you are. I thought you were right behind us." She went to my sister's side and picked up a slim box, turning it over, looking at the doll inside. "Would you like a Barbie doll, love?"

"I'm too old for them," she said sadly.

"Mariana played with Barbies when she was your age," Stef told her. "I don't think you're too old. Neither does Callie. Right, honey?"

I shook my head. "No." When we were younger, Barbies were our escape from our crappy life. We would make up elaborate stories and act them out with our dolls for hours, getting lost in their world. Sophia cried herself to sleep when I told her I'd outgrown them. But by then, most of our dolls were either broken or stolen, anyway.

"I want you to have it," she told my sister. "My treat." Without another word, she dropped the box in the cart.

"You're just buying it for me?" she asked in amazement.

"You did great at the doctors," Stef told her. "I think you've earned a treat. Now, let's go find something for Callie."

* * *

When we got home, the house was in an uproar. "They delivered the beds early," Lena said, coming to the door to greet us. Her hair was messy, and she looked frazzled.

"Did Mariana get some space cleared out?" Stef asked.

"No," Lena sighed. "It doesn't matter anyway. The beds would have never fit in there."

"So, where are they going to sleep?"

"In my room," Brandon said, coming into the room. He smiled his dopey but cute, crooked smile at us. "We made a compromise. I'm moving in with Jesus for now."

Stef smiled and hugged him. "Thank you, B. That was very generous of you. What about your keyboard? Where are you going to practice so you don't bother your brother?"

"The garage," he explained. "We're cleaning it out so I have a place to play. Is that okay?"

"It's fine," she said, kissing his cheek. He blushed when he saw me watching.

"Come on, girls," Stef said. "Let's go check out your new room!"

* * *

**Stef**

The garage was almost neat. It's amazing how much stuff a family can collect over the years. I looked around, under old blankets and behind boxes, trying to find the totes that held the kids' old toys. Finally, a flash of bright pink that could only be the Barbie house caught my eye. Next to it was a bin of dolls and accessories, neatly packed away.

I dusted off the dollhouse, then carried everything upstairs to Mariana's room. My sulky girl was sitting on her bed with a pouty expression on her face.

"Hey, Miss Thing," I smiled, trying to cheer her up.

"Hi," she said.

"I have a proposition for you," I said, setting the toys down and joining her on the bed. "I found out today that miss Sophia likes Barbie dolls. So, I was wondering if you would mind giving her your old Barbie things."

Mariana looked up at me, horrified. "First you want to give them my room, and now you want to give them all my stuff? Why don't you just send me back and adopt them?"

I took a deep breath before speaking. "I am not asking you to give them all your stuff," I calmly told her. "I am asking you to share toys you haven't touched in years with a little girl who has nothing." Callie and Sophia's new room was spartan-bare. It consisted of the beds, Brandon's dresser and nightstand, and little else. "And just for the record, I wouldn't trade you for a million dollars."

I took her hand and held it tight. "Love, we're trying to raise you to be the best Mariana you can be. And I haven't seen that these past few days. I'm disappointed, because I know what a kind heart you have."

"Barbies were something you and I used to do together," she mumbled. Her dark eyes were damp.

I wrapped her in my arms and hugged her. "And I treasure those memories, baby." I brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead. "We had a lot of fun together."

"I kind of wanted to give them to my own daughter someday," she told me. "I don't want to give them away."

I nodded. "Okay," I said. "I'm sorry I asked. If you don't want to give them up, you don't have to."

She looked down at her lap, then back up at me. "I guess I wouldn't mind letting her borrow them. While she's here, I mean."

I kissed her temple and hugged her tight. "That's the Mariana I know. And love."

* * *

**Callie**

Sophia was messing around with the doll stuff Stef had given her. I stood in the doorway of our new bedroom for a few minutes, watching her lay out all the little furniture in front of the dollhouse. "Hey, cutie pie," I said, getting her attention.

She dropped a pink chair, like I'd caught her doing something horrible. "I was just looking at them."

I went over to her and sat down beside her on the carpet. "I don't care if you play with them. You looked really happy just now."

"You don't think I'm being babyish?"

"Nah," I replied. "I mean, you've kind of earned the right to be a kid. And I've missed your smile."

"I miss when we used to play together," she said quietly.

"Me too," I admitted, playing with her ponytail. "I guess life just got in the way. I had to grow up. I had no choice."

I picked up a dark-haired Barbie doll and walked her over to my sister. "I almost told Stef about the Brian thing today."

"You did?" Sophia's brown eyes went wide.

"I stopped myself in time, though." It was because Stef had hugged me. Because she held my hand at the doctor's. Because she told me I was beautiful. "I guess I need to be more careful, too."

"I love them," Sophia stated, holding her new Barbie doll. "I wish they'd adopt us."

"They aren't going to adopt us," I told her. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but she had to know the truth, so she wouldn't get her hopes up.

"How do you know?" she asked me.

"I just do," I said. "Look... they're just being nice. They have enough kids. Why would they want two more? Especially ones like us." If they liked us, it was because they didn't know what we were.

"You don't know what they want," she protested.

"No," I breathed. "But today was really close. Too close. We can enjoy being here while it lasts, but I'm not going to fall in love with them, and I don't think you should either."

She gave me a defiant look. "I don't care what you say. I'm gonna _make_ them love us."

Suddenly, she dropped her doll and held her stomach. "What's the matter?" I asked, alarmed. "Are you sick?" I remembered that she'd complained about her stomach hurting twice already.

She nodded. "I'll be right back. I have to go to the bathroom."

She came back a few seconds later. Her round face was pale and there were tears in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head. "Callie, I'm bleeding. _Down there._" She came closer, and I noticed her hands were shaking. "I think I'm dying."

I laughed, even though I knew she was scared. "Sophia, you're not dying. You just got your period. You know what that is."

Sophia blushed, swiping at her tears. "I know, I know. I just thought maybe what-"

I stopped her, holding my arms out. "I know what you're thinking, but it's not. Sometimes it's easy to get scared over nothing. Don't worry. We'll take care of it."

I led my sister to the bathroom and looked in the cupboard under the sink. All I found was an empty tampon box. "Maybe Stef and Lena have something in their bathroom?" They were women. They had to have some sort of protection. "Come on. We'll check."

It felt strange, just going into someone else's room without their permission. But the last thing I wanted to do was approach Mariana for help. I went into the bathroom, with Sophia hovering behind me.

"Girls, what are you doing in here?"

We turned to see Lena, her arms crossed over her chest. Sophia shrunk against me, scared. "We weren't doing anything wrong," I said. "Sophia started her period. We couldn't find anything to take care of it."

"Please don't hit us," Sophia pleaded. I held her protectively.

Lena's face softened, and she lowered her arms. "Oh, sweetheart... I wasn't going to hit you. I would _never_ hit you. No one in this house will ever lay a hand on you." She gently held my sister's shoulders. "Is this your first time, honey?"

"Yes," she admitted. Her face was still ghostly pale.

Lena sighed. "I'm sorry I scared you girls. I didn't mean to. I've just had a stressful day and I'm tired." She went to the bathroom cupboard and took out a pad. "You know how to use this, right?"

Sophia nodded.

"Well, do you have any questions? I know this can be confusing."

She shrugged. "Callie told me some stuff."

Lena smiled. "Why don't you go ahead and put this on in the bathroom? I'll make sure the other bathroom is stocked by the end of the day. And when you come out, you and I will have a long talk."

Without saying another word, Sophia ducked into the bathroom. "Poor baby," Lena sighed. "Puberty is hell." She handed me the half-empty box of pads. "Could you take these to the other bathroom, sweets?"

I nodded. "I could've explained things to her."

"I know you could have," she nodded. "But there are times when a girl needs a mother-figure in her life. So, I think I'll take this one."

I nodded again, then turned toward the door.

* * *

"Hey, slug-a-bug," Stef smiled, as I wandered into the kitchen.

I paused. "What did you call me?"

"It's just a nickname," she laughed. "You don't like it?"

I shrugged, secretly pleased. "I don't mind it."

She was spreading gloppy peanut butter on graham crackers. "You want a snack, love? I was gonna have one myself."

"Okay," I said. I couldn't believe how generous they were with food around here. They let us have seconds at meals if we wanted them, and the other kids were always in and out of the kitchen, taking something out of the fridge. Last night was the first night I'd gone to bed with a full stomach in weeks.

Stef brought a plate to the table and set it between us, then poured us some iced tea. "Where's Lena?"

"She's upstairs with my sister," I told her. "Sophia started her period." I broke a graham cracker in half and bit into it.

"Aww," said Stef, with a smile. "You look kind of down, honey. Is something bothering you?"

I shook my head. "It's just... it's like one minute she was still a little kid, and the next, she's all grown up."

"She's still the kid she always was," Stef promised me. "No one grows all the way up in an instant. You'll see." She took a sip of her drink. "So, who explained the facts of life to you, Callie?"

"No one," I told her. "I figured it out for myself."

"That must have been hard," she said. "Bill said your mother passed away. Is that right?"

"Yes," I nodded, without going into detail.

"What's your plan for the future? Do you have one?"

"I'm gonna get custody of Sophia when I turn eighteen," I told her, pushing cracker crumbs into a little pile. "I just want to get her out of the system."

"What about you?" Stef asked, looking me in the eye. "What do you want from life?"

I shrugged. "I'll be fine, as long as my sister is safe and we're together."

Stef took my hand, like she had at the doctor's office. "Well, until then, I want you to think of this as your home. We want this to be your last foster home. Ever."

I managed a small smile. It was all I could do not to tell her everything right then and there.

**To Be Continued**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6.

**Callie**

That night, Sophia put her plan to get Stef and Lena to love us into action. After dinner, Stef made popcorn, and everyone gathered in the living room to watch a movie. Apparently, it was Jesus's favorite movie, and he knew all the lines. He repeated them out loud along with the characters, just to annoy everyone. Finally, Mariana threw a pillow at him to shut him up. I'd never laughed so hard in my life.

Instead of snuggling with me, Sophia sat next to Lena. As the movie played, I noticed her lay her head on our foster mom's shoulder. Yawning, Lena wrapped her arm around my sister and stroked her hair. I felt a twinge of sadness. She wanted so badly to be loved by them, but I knew she was only setting herself up for heartbreak. I had a feeling that when this foster home came crashing down around us, it would be the hardest one to lose.

When the movie ended, Stef clicked off the TV. "Okay, my loves. Time for bed. All of you. You have school in the morning." The next day, Sophia and I would start school at Anchor Beach. It would be our eighth school in six years.

The others headed up to their rooms after kissing their moms goodnight. When they were gone, Sophia wrapped her arms around Lena and gave her a quick, shy hug. "Goodnight, Lena."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Lena said, returning the hug. "Sweet dreams."

"You ready for your first night in your new room?" Stef asked her excitedly.

"Yeah," my sister nodded. "It's really great." Timidly, she hugged her. "Goodnight, Stef."

"Goodnight, honey," Stef replied. "Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite." She approached me next, studying my face carefully. "Goodnight, slug-a-bug."

"Goodnight," I nodded. I wondered if she was going to hug me, too. And even though I told myself I didn't want her to, I was happy when she did.

"Goodnight, Callie," Lena smiled. "See you in the morning."

"'Night," I said, before following Sophia upstairs.

* * *

**Stef**

"Sophia's a sweet kid," Lena mussed, putting the pillows back on the sofa. "So loving, and polite."

I crept down and starting picking popcorn off of the rug. Mariana had knocked Jesus's bowl off his lap when she threw a pillow at them. "She's a little love," I agreed. "And Callie is so kind to her. I wish our kids got along half as well."

"I just feel so sad for both of them," Lena said, a sentiment she had repeated several times. Her dark eyes were damp. She looked down into her lap.

"I got Callie to open up a little today," I confided.

"You did?" Lena joined me on the floor and waited expectantly for me to go on.

"She told me that it was her last foster father who beat her. And that he died. He was driving drunk and he got into an accident."

"Wow," said Lena, shaking her head. "That's a lot for a kid to take in."

"Something about her story didn't feel... _right_, though," I admitted. "Like, getting her to tell me was almost too easy?" Callie had made it clear from the start that she wasn't a sharer. What would make her change so suddenly?

"You think she'd lie about something like that?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I had a feeling that at least some of her story was true."

"Why do you think she felt the need to lie?" Lena wondered. Sweet, trusting Lena, who always found the best in everyone.

"I think she's protecting someone," I told her plainly. "I don't know who, though. Or for what reason."

"You've got your cop face on," Lena teased. She gave me a sober look. "Just don't scare her, honey. The one thing we _do_ know is that she's been through a lot."

"Do you think I have a history of scaring children?" I asked, giving her a playfully insulted look.

"I'm just saying... you tend to be... _harsh_," Lena said, walking on eggshells. "And you might want to tread carefully with this one. She's not familiar with your idiosyncrasies like we are."

"I promise not to interrogate her," I vowed. To be honest, my feelings for sad-faced, withdrawn Callie were quickly growing. I'd seen how she'd responded to the little bit of affection I'd given her at the doctor and at the store. She craved love more than she was willing to show. And she reminded me a little of myself at that age. I could feel the tentative bond between us. "I just want to get through to her, let her know she has people she can trust."

"We could always talk to Bill as a last resort," Lena suggested. "If anyone knows what really happened at their last home, it would be him."

I nodded. "Now who has their cop face on?" I tossed a piece of spilled popcorn into the air and caught it with my mouth.

"Stef!" Lena cried. "That's disgusting. Do you know how many dirty feet have been there?"

"Five second rule," I said, popping another piece.

She gave me a grossed-out look, and we burst into giggles.

* * *

**Callie**

I lay in the dark, brushing my finger across the bridge of my nose. Truth be told, I missed sharing a bed with Sophia. There was something comforting about knowing she was next to me, listening to her breath. If I had a bad dream, she was right there to snuggle with.

She must have been thinking the same thing. "Cal?" she whispered from her bed.

"What, baby?"

"I miss you," she said quietly.

"I miss you too," I admitted. "You want to get in with me?"

I heard her covers rustle. "Stef and Lena bought us these brand new beds. They might get mad if we don't sleep in them."

"I guess so," I sighed, a little disappointed. Then, an idea hit me. I rolled over and turned on the lamp. "We could push our beds together?"

Sophia smiled. "Yeah," she agreed. I noticed her new Barbie was tucked under her arm instead of her stuffed horse. We got up and shoved the beds together until they met, making one big bed. Then, I turned off the light and crawled back under the sheets, feeling better knowing my sister so close and I wasn't alone.

"So, " I said, staring up at the ceiling. "How did your talk with Lena go?"

"It was okay," she told me. "She gave me medicine to make me feel better. And she's gonna get me a bra tomorrow."

"My little girl is growing up," I teased, my voice tinged with a hint of real regret.

"It's weird to think I can have babies now," she confided. Her voice sounded faraway.

I blinked against the dark. "I'm just glad we don't live with Brian anymore."

Sophia felt between us and took my hand. "What do you think our new school will be like?"

"I don't know," I said. "I hope it's better than the last one." Our seventh school was in a bad neighborhood. There was a growing gang presence in the high school, where I went. And there had been a drive-by shooting near the middle school not too long before we started there. There was nowhere for us to feel safe; not at home, not at school.

"I know it will be," Sophia told me, enthusiastically. "Because we'll be in the same school this time. So we'll probably see each other a lot. And Lena is the vice principal. She said it's right on the beach. And Stef got us all those new school supplies."

A lot of people don't realize how much simple things can mean to foster kids. Things other kids take for granted, like sneakers, backpacks, even underwear. We don't always have access to those things. But they're things we need every day. Knowing we'd at least be able to go to our new school prepared, my little sister's optimism began to rub off on me. "We better get to sleep," I said. "Big day tomorrow." I rolled over and kissed her cheek. "Goodnight. I love you, Sophie bug."

"I love you too, Callie," she told me, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Goodnight."

Down the hall, I heard Stef and Lena's soft voices. The door to their room opened and closed as they headed for bed. Now that it as quiet and I was alone with my thoughts, I willed myself to replay the events of the day instead of the awful details of _that night_. The good parts of the day; the shopping trip, Sophia getting her Barbie doll, Stef's hugs. Anything to the tame the butterflies in my stomach that always came with starting at a new school.

**To Be Continued**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7.

**Lena**

"I made a new friend today," Sophia told me, looking up from her spot at the table, where she sat, doing her homework. "Her name is Taylor. She's in my homeroom, so she showed me around the school."

"Taylor," I said, racking my brain for any students with that name in seventh grade. There were two. A boy, and a girl. I assumed Sophia's new friend was the latter. "Ah, I know her. She's a sweet girl. Very quiet."

"She already has a best friend, though," Sophia told me, somewhat disappointed. "This girl named Daria. I don't think she likes me very much, though."

"Well," I told her. "You're allowed to have more than one best friend."

"I guess you're right," she stated. "Callie will always be my _best_ best friend."

"Maybe you could invite Taylor over sometime?" I suggested. "Stef and I wouldn't mind at all. I'm glad you had such a good first day of school."

We worked quietly for a few more minutes, when Sophia piped up, "Lena?"

"What, sweetheart?" I asked, turning my attention from my paperwork to her.

"Do you think people can do bad things and still be good?" she asked me.

I chewed on the end of my pencil. "That's a good question, sweets. Is it something in your homework?"

She looked down at her math worksheet and shook her head. "No. I was just wondering. Like, say a good person does something bad to a bad person. To protect someone they care about. Does that make _them_ bad too?"

"That was a mouthful," I chuckled. "I think I need to think this one over before I answer." After a long pause, I finally did.

"I don't think anyone is either good _or_ bad," I told her. "We all have some badness and some goodness in us. It's human nature. As for if 'good' people can do 'bad' things and still be good, well... yes, I suppose so. Everyone loses their temper or makes mistakes sometimes. But I believe all people are basically good inside."

"Could you ever love a bad person?" she asked, studying me intently.

I bit my lip, my interest piqued. "Yes, I could. Especially if they were as cute as you." I reached out and pinched her cheek.

Just then, the doorbell rang. "Would you mind getting the door, honey?" I asked Sophia.

"Okay," she said. She jumped up and ran to the front door. When she opened it, Mike was standing on the doorstep, still dressed in his uniform. I watched Sophia's body go rigid and her eyes widen with horror. She was so scared. My heart twisted.

"Hi, sweetie," he said, in a friendly voice. "You must be Sophia. I'm Mike."

I hurried to her and put my hands on her shoulders. "Sophia, sweetheart, this is Brandon's dad. He works with Stef at the police station." I turned to the stairs. "B.! Stef! Mike is here!"

Callie wandered into the living room then, to see what was going on. I saw Mike's eyes fix on her. "Mike, this is Callie, Sophia's older sister."

"Pleased to meet you, Callie," he said, without tearing his eyes away.

"Girls, why don't you go set the table?" I offered. They nodded and hurried into the kitchen.

"Hey dad," said Brandon.

Mike hugged him, then ruffled his hair. "Hey, B. Go on out to the car. I'll be right there."

Stef came beside me and made polite conversation with her ex. Every so often, Mike glanced over at the kitchen. "Are you okay?" I asked him.

"I think I've seen those girls before," he said quietly. "I wish I could remember where."

* * *

**Stef**

I took a sip of my red wine, savoring it. Lena lay against me, petting my hair. "I'm so glad it's the weekend," I yawned. "It's too bad the girls had to start school on such a weird day, though."

"At least they got a taste of how our school works," Lena said. "Speaking of the girls, I had a very philosophical conversation with Miss Sophia earlier."

"Did you?" I laughed.

"She was asking me all sorts of questions about if doing something bad makes you a bad person," she told me. "And if I could love a person who did something bad."

"Huh," I said. "Was it something she was reading about?"

"I don't think so," Lena mussed, stretching. "What I'd like to know is why that little girl has so much guilt inside her. I'm almost positive it has something to do with the 'accident' in their last foster home."

"You think so?" I asked. "We're both pretty sure the girls are hiding something."

"I'd like to know what it is," Lena sighed. "But we're not getting anywhere with Callie, and she and Sophia are always together."

The sisters almost had a symbiotic relationship. It reminded me of the twins when they first came to us. Mariana hardly spoke. She had no need to. Jesus spoke for her, basically did everything for her. And by doing so, it fulfilled a need for him.

"Maybe they would open up if they spent some time alone with us," I offered. "Whatever it is, I'm sure Callie has probably coached her sister not to talk about it. Maybe if they were separated for a little while..."

"I can't imagine the two of them apart, even _for_ a little while," my wife said. "But I agree with you. Giving them some time away from each other is a good idea."

"Maybe we would give them each a special day out," I said, yawning again. "I'm ready to turn in. We'll talk about it more in the morning. Let's head up to bed. It's late."

* * *

I was awoken from my sleep not even an hour later, by Sophia's little hand shaking my shoulder. "Stef, please wake up. I need help!"

I jerked awake and sat up. Lena stirred too. "What is it, love?" I asked. Her eyes were frantic. "What's wrong?"

"Callie's having a nightmare and I can't wake her up," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "Please come."

"We're coming," I assured her, slipping out of bed. "Don't worry. We'll take care of her."

Lena and I followed her into the girls' bedroom. Callie was thrashing around on her bed, the sheets tangled around her legs. She was sobbing in her sleep.

"Callie?" I called.

"Get it off me!" she cried. "Get it off me!"

I went to the bed and rubbed her arm. Her face was streaked with tears, and her eyelashes fluttered wildly. With a morbid fascination, I wondered what she was seeing in her head. "Callie, love? It's Stef. Can you wake up for me?"

"Please... get it off," she whimpered, frantically rubbing up and down her arms with her hands.

"Get what off, honey?" I asked.

"The blood," she sobbed. I turned to my wife and shared her frightened look. What was happening was simply eerie.

"Callie, you need to wake up for me," I said a little more firmly, trying to get through to her before she woke up the whole household. "Please, honey. Listen to me. You're safe. You're perfectly safe." I stroked her hair and took her in my arms. "We're here, baby. Right here."

Finally, she shot up and her eyes flew open. She looked around like a deer caught in the headlights.

"See?" I whispered, comforting her. "No blood. It was just a scary, scary dream, but it's over now."

She shook her head, still crying inconsolably. "Would you like to come sleep in our bed tonight?" I offered.

Almost zombie-like, she nodded weakly, too exhausted from her tossing and turning to move. "Sophia, you'll be okay in here by yourself, right?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, looking unsure of herself. Lena tucked her in and told her not to worry. Then, I walked Callie, who was shaking, back to our room, and guided her into the bed.

"Crawl in," I told her. "Right between us." I slid in next to her, Lena on the other side. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her forehead. When I looked back down at her a second later, she was sound asleep, as if nothing had ever happened.

* * *

**Callie**

I woke up disoriented and groggy, feeling more tired than I was when I went to sleep. Something felt wrong, and when it dawned on me what it was, my heart began to pound with panic. I wasn't in my own bed, or even my own room.

I rubbed my eyes; my lashes were stiff and crusty, then I rolled over to look for my sister, but Sophia wasn't there. Stef was laying next to me, asleep. Looking around the room, I realized I was in my foster moms' bedroom.

I touched her arm carefully, and she woke up. "What happened?" I asked. "How did I get in here?"

Stef gave me a strange look. "You don't remember, love?"

"Remember what?" I asked, becoming more confused than ever.

Stef's green eyes were shadowed with worry. "You had a terrible nightmare last night, honey. I've never seen anything like it. You were crying and screaming, like something horrible was happening to you. When we finally woke you up, Lena and I brought you in here." She lowered her voice. "Callie, how can you not remember?"

"I just can't," I said. "I don't remember dreaming anything last night. I- I don't believe you!" All I remembered was going to sleep in my own bed.

"It's true, honey," she told me. "Ask Lena and Sophia. They saw it too. I would never lie to you." She put her arm around me and drew me closer. "Callie, do you have a history of night terrors?"

"I don't know," I said. Then I remembered something. "Is that the same as sleepwalking?"

"I don't know very much about it," she admitted. "But I think they're similar. Lena would probably know more about it, since she studied child psychology. Why do you ask?"

"I think I used to sleepwalk when I was little." I remembered my mom telling me once that she'd find me doing all kinds of weird things during the night when I was a little kid, like taking everything out of the fridge or watching TV in the dark, like the girl from _Poltergeist_. She said she would just carry me back to bed when it happened. I hadn't thought about that in years.

"This is really interesting," Stef said. "Are you sure you don't remember anything? Not one little thing?"

"No!" I said. "I already told you I don't." I pressed my fingers to my temples. "I'm tired. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Lay down," she said, and I did. She pulled the covers up to my shoulders. "You can rest as long as you want, since it's Saturday. Try to get some sleep, love." She caressed my cheek gently, then brushed my hair out of my face. "I'm going downstairs. If you need me, just call."

"Okay," I yawned. She left the room, leaving the door open just a crack.

* * *

**Stef**

"Is Callie up?" Lena asked me when I went down to breakfast.

I nodded. "I put her back to sleep. She's worn out." I glanced over at Sophia. "Lena, can I talk to you in the other room?"

My wife followed me into the living room. "What's wrong? Is she sick? She scared the living daylights out of me last night."

"Me too," I admitted. "And you know what? She doesn't remember any of it."

"None of it?" Lena asked with a shudder, her dark eyes wide.

I shook my head. "She woke up scared and confused. She couldn't remember how she got in our room. She said she didn't dream anything last night."

"This is spooky," Lena said. "I hate to say it, but it is. I would remember if I had a dream that intense."

"She told me she used to sleepwalk when she was a child," I confided. "Do you think this could be related?"

She shrugged. "It looked like she was having a night terror to me."

"That's what I thought," I agreed. "But why would something like that happen again after all these years? I think it's connected to whatever is bothering her during the day."

"We can't let her live like this," Lena finally sighed. "Whatever she's hiding is eating her alive. We're going to _have_ to find out what happened. Not for our sake, but for hers."

* * *

**Callie**

Sophia was looking over me when I woke up the second time. "How long have I been sleeping?" I asked.  


"A couple hours," she said.

I sat up in bed, letting the covers fall off of me. "Sophia, I need you to tell me the truth. Did I do anything... weird last night?"

Her brow creased. "You had a bad nightmare. About... _you know._ It was really scary. You were talking in your sleep and everything."

My breath caught in my throat. "I need to know everything I did and said." When she didn't answer, I grabbed her shoulders. "I need to know now."

"You were crying," she told me. "And you were screaming, 'get it off of me, get the blood off of me!' You were rubbing your arms too, like there was really blood on them. It was like... like it was happening all over again." Her eyes were round and scared.

"Then what?" I asked.

"Stef woke you up, sort of. It was like your eyes were open, but you were still sleeping. She and Lena took you to their room for the rest of the night, and I went back to bed."

I looked down at my arms, smooth and clean. When I looked at them last night, had I really seen them covered in blood? And then a worse thought hit me, and I shuddered. What else was I capable of doing while I was asleep? Could I possibly tell everything and not even know it? I'd come dangerously close the night before.

**To Be Continued**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8.

**Callie**

A week passed, and I didn't have another night terror. Stef and Lena didn't mention it again, either. I took it as a good sign. School was going okay, and I was starting to learn the ropes. I even made a new friend, a girl named Emma. She was a jock, and I didn't have an athletic bone in my body. And she was a straight A student, while I barely managed to scrape by. But she was friendly and fun.

We were sitting in English, and the teacher, Timothy, was talking about guilt. A subject I knew all about.

"For your assignment," he said, "I want you to write in your journals about something _you_ feel guilty about in your own life. Something that's been bothering you. Anything at all."

Yeah. That was gonna happen. To confirm my skepticism, Emma turned to me and rolled her blue eyes.

"No one will read what you've written but you," Timothy said in his smooth English accent. "So, I want you to free yourselves on paper. I guarantee you'll feel so much better once you get the words out."

It was like my hand had a mind of it's own. Across the top of the paper, I wrote in neat print, _The Brian Thing._

The bell rang just then. Emma joined me, and we walked to lunch together. "Is he serious?" she asked. "Like I'm going to spill my deepest, darkest secrets to a guy who wears mandals."

I snorted a giggle. "I know, right?"

"You know what?" she went on. "I think I'm going to write something really embarrassing and made up, just to see if I can get a rise out of him."

"Like what?" I asked, biting my lip, which had finally started to scab over and heal.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't thought about it yet."

"He said he wasn't going to read what we write," I reminded her. We found a table in the cafeteria, and sat down. I opened the lunch Lena had packed for me. The napkin had a note scrawled on it, like it did every day. _Have a great day! XOXO Lena_.

Emma laughed. "He _said_ that. But I bet he does. Maybe I should write something juicier, like a murder confession." She grabbed my notebook from my stack of books. "What do you have so far? Maybe I can get some ideas."

"Hey, give that back!" I said, a little more panicked than I should have been.

"Relax, Cal," she said, handing my notebook back to me. "You only have three words written. What's 'The Brian Thing'?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, taking a bite of my sandwich.

"Was Brian your boyfriend?" she asked.

I almost gagged on my food. "_No_. Not at all." I set my sandwich down and pushed it away, my appetite suddenly gone.

Emma studied my pale face. "Hey, don't worry about it. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It's cool."

"Thanks," I smiled.

Before I went to my next class, I erased those three words I'd written.

* * *

That night was also Sophia's first sleepover ever. Her friend Taylor was coming over to spend the night, and she was so excited to do 'normal girl stuff,' as she called it.

I was lying on my stomach on my bed when she came into the room, staring at my blank notebook. We'd separated our beds earlier in anticipation of the sleepover, and Taylor was due over in a few hours.

"What are you doing?" she asked, flopping down on the bed beside me.

"Homework," I mumbled, chewing on my pencil eraser.

"But the page is empty," she observed.

"I know," I said. "We're supposed to write about something that we feel guilty about."

"Are you going to write about _you know what?_" she asked, locking her eyes on me.

"Nah," I assured her. "You know I wouldn't take a risk like that."

Sophia slipped off the bed and got the notebook I'd given her the day we got placed with Stef and Lena. The black and white cover was worn. It had my name written on it, but she'd crossed it out and written Sophia Jacob right below it. She flipped it open and laid it on top of my notebook. "Look."

I let my eyes skim over my sister's loopy handwriting:

_'I still remember everything about that night. My sister went out to meet Ben, and I promised to cover for her. I was doing the dinner dishes, and Brian came into the kitchen. He told me had something...'_

I stopped reading. I didn't need to go on. I knew what the rest of it said. I saw it in my nightmares every night. "Get rid of that."

"But you said I could write about it in here," she argued. "Remember?"

"I don't think it's a good idea now," I said. "What if your friend finds it? Or what if Mariana or somebody reads it? Brandon comes in here all the time to get his stuff."

"Writing about it makes me feel better," she protested.

With a sigh, I tore the pages out of the notebook and ripped them to shreds. Sophia gave my an angry look, but I didn't care. "Listen, Soph. You like it here, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"You like Stef and Lena, right?"

"Yeah." She swiped away a tear with her thumb.

"They'll send us away if they read this," I explained. "And this is too good of a home to loose. Okay?"

"Okay," she said.

I threw the paper, which was now reduced to confetti, into the wastebasket. "Come here." I grabbed her up in my arms and gave her a tight bear-hug. "I love you, baby. I'm only trying to protect you, because I want you to have a safe home. If you do what I say, we'll be fine." I gave her a kiss and buried my nose in her hair.

"I love you too," she said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." I pulled her back and hugged her again. "You didn't know. Now, let's go get ready for your sleepover!"

* * *

Taylor came over at six-thirty. Sophia ran to the door to greet her. "Come in," my sister said, taking her friend by the hand. "Stef and Lena are letting us make our own pizzas!"

"Why do you call your moms by their first names?" Taylor asked. I wondered if Sophia had told Taylor that Stef and Lena _were _ her moms, or if she just hadn't told her she was a foster kid.

Sophia paused, looking uncomfortable. "They're not my real moms. They're my foster moms."

Taylor nodded. "That's cool. What happened to your real mom?"

"She died," she admitted, just as Mariana cut in.

"How would you girls like me to give you mani-pedis after dinner?"

Even though our foster sister hadn't been very welcoming to us, I gained some respect for her, then. "Thank you," I mouthed. She gave me a knowing smile.

"That's my foster sister, Mariana," Sophia pointed out. She came over and took my hand. "And this is my sister, Callie."

Taylor waved shyly. "Hey."

"Welcome, Taylor," said Lena, smiling happily as she came into the room. "We're really glad to have you over."

"Thanks," she said.

Going into the kitchen, Sophia introduced her friend to Stef, Jesus, and Brandon. "You're so lucky!" I heard Taylor say.

"I am?" Sophia asked, disbelief written all over her face. She didn't hear that too often.

"Yeah," the other girl nodded. "It's just me and my parents. I've always wanted to be in a big family. And Vice Principal Adams is so cool."

"The coolest," Stef chipped in with a smile.

"Yeah," Sophia nodded. "She is."

* * *

After dinner, a sundae bar, mani-pedis, and a movie, the girls came up to our room. I was still trying to decide what to write about in my journal for timothy's assignment. I'd considered writing about the time I stole a pack of bologna from the grocery store. But I didn't really feel guilty about that. Sophia and I were hungry.

I closed my notebook. I was about ready to throw it out the window. "I'll get out," I told the girls. I grabbed my hairbrush, and my pillow and blanket. I was going to sleep on the couch so Taylor could have my bed.

Stef peeked in as I was about to leave. "Just thought I'd come in and say goodnight. Mama and I are heading to bed soon, so try to keep it down to a dull roar tonight, okay girls?"

Sophia and Taylor giggled. "Okay."

"Goodnight," she said.

I said goodnight to them too, adding an "I love you" for Sophia.

Stef followed me to the living room. "Do you have enough blankets, love?"

"I think so," I said. I smiled at her. "Thank you. For doing this for Sophia. It really means a lot to her. I can't remember the last time I saw her so happy."

Stef sat down beside me on the couch. "We're glad to do it, honey. I think Lena and I are having more fun than the girls are."

"Still," I said. "Most foster families wouldn't go through this much trouble."

"Well, we like to do it up big around here," she said. "And we're not most foster families."

"I know," I agreed.

"You can have friends over too, Callie," she told me. "Any time."

I nodded, thinking it might be fun to have Emma over to study. I knew she had a crush on Jesus, so she'd probably jump at the chance.

"Callie, what happened to your birth parents?" Stef asked me.

I inhaled and exhaled, trying to keep away the shaky feeling I got whenever I thought about my mother. "My mom died in a car accident," I explained. "My dad was driving drunk. The people in the other car died too, so he went to prison for manslaughter."

"That must have been so hard on you girls," she breathed, giving me that soft, mothering look of hers. "I'm so sorry, baby."

I nodded. "Sophia barely remembers her. She was only six." I picked up my hairbrush and pulled it through my hair.

"You must remember her, though."

"Yeah," I said. "But it's getting harder and harder."

"Time does that," Stef told me. She took my brush from my hand. "May I?"

"Okay," I said.

She positioned herself behind me and brushed my hair with long strokes, gently working out each tangle. Just like my mother used to do. "There," she said. She gave me a serious look, cupping my chin in her hand. "You know that Lena and I care about you and your sister very much, right?"

I shrugged. "Yes."

"Just thought I'd remind you," she smiled. She gave me a hug. "Goodnight, slug-a-bug. If you need anything, just call."

* * *

**Stef**

"Honey, do you hear something?" Lena asked.

I opened my eyes and strained my ears to listen. I did hear something. A muffled whimpering. "It might be Callie. I'll go check on her." I rolled out of bed and went downstairs.

Sure enough, Callie was tossing and turning, crying in her sleep. It was very much the same scene as a week ago; it chilled me, just as much as it had the first time. "Sweetheart," I whispered, going to her. "You need to wake up."

"Get it off," she sobbed, rubbing her arms. "Please!"

"What is going on in that little head of yours?" I asked her quietly. "I wish you would tell us." I reached out to touch her arm, and she jerked away, so hard that she fell off the couch.

"Callie," I cried, crouching down next to her. The fall seemed to have shocked her out of her night terror, and she looked up at me, frightened. "Love, are you okay?" I asked.

She nodded, giving me a confused look. "What happened?"

"You fell, honey," I told her gently. "You had a nightmare." I noticed that her arms were pink and scratched, where she had been rubbing at them. "Do you remember any of it?"

"No," she told me, shaking her head. "I don't."

"Come on," I said. "Get back into bed, honey."

She climbed back on the couch, and I sat on the edge and took her hand. "Would you like me to stay with you until you fall asleep?"

"Could you?" she asked. Her tears were drying on her cheeks.

"I'd be glad to," I said, patting her hand. "Close you eyes now. I'm right here."

* * *

When I woke up, I was slumped over Callie. I couldn't remember when I'd dozed off, but I must have. Getting up carefully, I left her sleeping, and went to the kitchen.

"Something smells yummy," I said, taking a deep breath.

"My famous chocolate chip pancakes," Lena said, turning to me.

Sophia and Taylor were already at the table, eating breakfast. "Did you girls just get up?" I asked them.

"Yeah," Sophia said. I looked at the clock. It was almost eleven, and I assumed they'd stayed up half the night, giggling.

Lena passed me a full plate, and I sat down at the table. I'd just poured myself a glass of orange juice, and was reaching for the syrup, when my phone rang. I looked down at the screen. It was Mike.

"Hey," I said. "What's up?"

"Hey," he said. "What'cha doing?"

"Just sitting down to breakfast," I replied. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"I just wanted to tell you," he began. "I remembered where I've seen those girls you're fostering."

"Really?" I asked, taking the phone into the laundry room for privacy.

"I answered a call at their place a while back. I don't know how I could have forgotten. The little one?"

"Sophia?" I watched my foster daughter smiling and eating pancakes with her friend.

"Yeah," he said. "Sophia. She shot her foster father."

**To Be Continued**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9.

**Lena**

Stef and I tried to forget about what Mike had told her over the weekend, to treat the girls just as we always had. There was no reason not to; we didn't know the whole story yet. But we made arrangements for Bill to meet with us on Monday, so we could get the answers we needed while the kids were out of the house. However, that morning Callie came down to the table alone.

"Is your sister coming down?" I asked her, passing her a bowl of cereal.

She looked up from the juice she was pouring. "I guess so. She was still getting dressed when I left."

"Let me go check on her," I offered. I went up to the girls' room and knocked on the door. "Sophia, hon? Can I come in?"

"Yeah," she said, and I let myself in.

Sophia was sitting on her bed, her pants halfway pulled up, as if she'd started to put them on and just forgot. She seemed distracted and sluggish. "Honey, are you okay?" I asked her with concern.

"I'm fine," she told me. Her round face was flushed, and I knew she wasn't fine at all.

"Maybe you've had a little too much excitement this weekend?" I put my hand on her forehead and was surprised by how warm she was. "Sweetheart, are you sure you're feeling alright? I think you might have a fever. I'm going to grab the thermometer and check your temperature."

When I returned, she was still sitting in the same position, looking listless. "Open up," I said, sticking the thermometer under her tongue. When it beeped, I read it. "One-hundred and one degrees. Sophia, you're sick. Why don't you get undressed and get back into bed?"

"I'm fine," she protested, giving me a frightened look. "I can go to school."

"Nope," I said, shaking my head. "You need to stay home. Come on, sweetheart. Lay down and I'll bring you some ginger ale and crackers."

"Well... okay," she reluctantly gave in.

I went back downstairs and fixed a tray for her. "Sophia isn't feeling well," I informed the others. "She's going to stay home today. Callie, will you pick up her homework?"

"Of course," she agreed. She watched me suspiciously for a moment. "Are you mad?"

"Why on earth would I be mad?" I asked, turning back to her.

"Because she's sick." She shook her head. "Never mind. It's nothing."

"Kids get sick, love," Stef told her. "We understand that. I don't know how it was in other homes, but if either of you aren't feeling well, you can tell us. We won't get mad."

"Right," I said. "She just needs a day or two of TLC. It's no big deal."

I brought the tray back up to Sophia, and was taken aback by how small and innocent she looked, laying in her bed, her arm wrapped around her stuffed horse. She didn't look like a murderer. She looked like a sick little girl who needed love.

"Here, honey," I said, setting the tray down on the bedside table. "Looks like you get to be queen for the day." I sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair. "Where do you feel sick? Can you tell me?"

"My ear hurts," she said. "And my throat is kind of scratchy."

I patted her hand and tucked her in tighter. "I'll take the day off to take care of you, sweetheart. And if you're still feeling bad later on, we'll take you to the doctor."

"Thanks, Lena," she said softly. "You don't have to fuss over me like this."

"It's my pleasure to fuss over you," I smiled. I leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'll check on you in a bit."

* * *

**Stef**

"So, how are Callie and Sophia doing?" Bill asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "Everything working out?"

"They're doing fine," I assured him. "They're very polite, they pick up after themselves, they do what we ask without arguing..." I paused. "But that's not really why we asked you here."

Lena brought Bill a cup of coffee. "Thank you," he nodded, taking it from her. The steam from it curled up and evaporated into the air. "What's going on?" he asked. "Is there a problem?"

Not much of a coffee drinker, Lena stirred honey into her cup of tea. "We know about what happened in the girls' last home," she said calmly. "We know that the foster father was shot, and that Sophia was responsible."

"How could you not have told us about this?" I asked Bill. I kept my voice low so Sophia wouldn't hear from where she was resting upstairs, but I couldn't stay as calm as my wife. I understood that Bill was overworked, with too many cases to handle, but it was hardly likely an incident like this could have slipped through the cracks. "Didn't you think this was something we should know?"

Bill looked down into his lap from the chair where he sat. "I apologize for not telling you," he said, somewhat nervously. "I just wanted Callie and Sophia to be placed in a decent home. I did, and still do, think that you guys are good for them. They're not bad girls, and they deserve a fresh start." He gave us a sheepish look. "I was afraid that if you knew, you wouldn't want them."

"We just want answers," Lena said, holding her teacup between her hands. "This has all come as such a shock to us. We want to know what happened."

The social worker nodded. "I understand that. You deserve to know." He set his coffee mug on the table and rubbed his chin. "I wasn't there when it happened," he told us. "I picked them up at the police station after the fact. But what happened was an accident. A terrible accident." He shook his head regretfully. "Sophia was playing with the gun, and it went off somehow. The foster father died in Callie's arms."

Lena gripped my hand, and I squeezed it back to reassure her. "Oh my gosh," she breathed. "Those poor girls. That must have been awful." Her voice was thick with tears.

"Did Callie get blood on her by any chance?" I asked. Finally, a piece of the puzzle was coming together.

"She did," Bill replied. His eyes became distant, haunted. "Why do you ask?"

"She has nightmares," I explained. "Terrible nightmares about blood. It scares us half to death."

Bill gave us a knowing look. "Callie and Sophia are not violent, but I understand how this might be disturbing. I can take them to a group home as soon as Callie gets home from school, if you'd like."

I sucked in my breath, surprised by how upset I was at the idea of losing them. They were becoming part of the family, and they needed us so much. What would it tell them if we just gave up on them like everyone else? "You're not taking them anywhere," I said, firm in my decision.

"You mean you still want them?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

I looked to Lena and our eyes locked. Lena nodded. "Of course we still want them," she said. "We don't care what happened. We love them."

* * *

After Bill left, Lena and I sat at the kitchen table, talking. "This explains Callie's night terrors," my wife said with a chill. "That must have been so scary."

"We have to get them into therapy right away," I said quietly. "They need to talk to someone."

"We'll look into it today," Lena agreed. "I just can't imagine living with something like that." She hugged herself. "No wonder Sophia was so afraid of your gun."

I nodded uneasily. What we learned from Bill should have cleared everything up. But it seemed like for every question he answered, we were left with another one unanswered. Sophia was twelve. Wasn't she old enough to know better than to play with a gun? Our kids certainly were at that age. And why wasn't a loaded gun locked up in the first place? And what about Callie's beat marks? I still believed it was the foster father who did it, even if the rest of what she'd told me was a lie.

"Suppose it wasn't an accident," I ventured, feeling guilty for even thinking it.

Lena's eyes widened. "Are you saying Bill lied to us?"

"It's possible Bill doesn't even know the truth," I told her, quickly explaining the reasoning behind my fears. "Mike said the foster father was already dead when the paramedics arrived. And we're almost positive that man abused those girls."

"I don't want to believe it," she replied, shaking her head. "Sophia doesn't seem like a killer. She's just a _baby_."

"Well, you'd be surprised what a person might do to protect someone they love," I told her, taking my empty mug to the sink. "If someone were hurting you or the kids, I-"

Lena's head jerked up, and she looked to the doorway. I followed her gaze and saw Sophia standing there. "Honey, what are you doing out of bed?" I asked, wondering how much she had heard.

"I needed a drink," she said, taking a step back. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," Lena told her. "I should have brought one up to you sooner. You need to stay hydrated." She filled a glass with water and handed it to our foster daughter. "Here you go, sweetheart."

"I saw Bill's car out the window," she told us. "Why was he here? Do we have to leave?" Her eyes, though glassy from fever, were full of fear.

"No, baby," I assured her, getting up to hug her. "You and Callie are here to stay. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, but she still looked doubtful.

"Come on, sweets," Lena said. "Let's get you back up to bed." She took her by the hand and led her upstairs, leaving me alone with all my unanswered questions.

* * *

**Callie**

"How's Sophia?" I asked, setting my backpack down after school. "Is she okay?" I'd been worrying about her all day; I couldn't help it, and I was anxious to get home to see her.

"She's sleeping," Stef told me. "Lena put her down about an hour ago."

"Oh," I said with a nod. "She probably has an ear infection. She used to get them all the time when she was little." I couldn't explain it, but the atmosphere of the house felt different somehow. I couldn't put my finger on what had changed, though.

"If she's not better by tonight, I'll take her to the doctor in the morning," Stef promised me. She reached into the cookie jar on the counter and took out two oatmeal cookies. "Why don't you have a snack, and then you can go up and see her?"

"Okay," I shrugged. I ate the cookies as fast as I could, then hurried upstairs. When I got to our room, it was empty. "Sophia?" I called. I went to check the bathroom, but it was empty too. It reminded me of _that night, _and a felt myself start to get panicky, even though I knew nothing like that could happen here. I turned back to our bedroom, my blood pounding in my ears.

This time, I looked around the room more carefully. The Barbie house was neat and organized, my sister's new doll sitting in the top floor. The covers on Sophia's bed were rumpled. Her stuffed horse was gone. It was then that I saw the note on her pillow, torn from the notebook I'd given her. I reached for it, and unfolded it with shaking hands.

_Callie,_

_Stef and Lena know about The Brian Thing. Bill told them. I can't stay here, but you can. You deserve a good home. You didn't do anything wrong. You're the best big sister in the world.  
_

_I'll miss you._

_Love,_

_Sophia_

I gripped the note so hard it crushed in my hands, and I turned to the bedroom doorway. "Stef! Lena! Help!"

They were up the stairs in seconds. "What is it, baby?" Stef asked. "What happened?"

Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I didn't care who saw them. I handed them the note. "Sophia ran away."

**To Be Continued**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10. (warning: this chapter contains some violence)

**Callie**

"My little sister," I sobbed, running my fingers roughly through my hair. My chest felt tight and my mind raced. I knew it wasn't the time to have a panic attack, but I couldn't help it.

Stef came over and put her hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, love," she said. "We will find Sophia." She tried to hug me, and I pulled away. She gave me a hurt look.

"Why couldn't you have just left things alone?" I cried. "Everything was going good. You should have just minded your own damn business!"

"Callie, please. Calm down," Lena said. "She couldn't have gotten far."

"You don't know that," I countered. I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. "It's my fault. My baby sister is sick and scared somewhere, and it's all my fault!"

"How is it your fault, Callie?" Stef asked me.

"I don't want to talk about it," I snapped. Without looking back, I tore down the stairs and out the front door. As I ran, I heard my foster moms calling me.

I ran until my lungs burned, and I didn't stop until I got to the school. I doubled over, leaning on a bench until I caught my breath. I had to think like my sister. Where would she go? I had to find her before she got abducted or worse. She was only twelve, and she didn't have any money. On top of that, she had a fever.

I remembered that Taylor lived near Anchor Beach. Sophia had pointed her house out to me once. She might have gone there. I sprinted to the house, limping slightly because I had a cramp in my thigh, and rang the bell.

A woman answered. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Is my sister here?" I panted. "Sophia? She's friends with Taylor."

Taylor's mom shook her head. "I'm sorry, honey. I think your foster moms called just a minute ago, but Sophia isn't here."

"Thanks," I said, my stomach dropping.

"Would you like a drink of water?" she asked.

"No thanks," I said, hurrying off the way I'd come.

As I walked, it started to rain. Perfect.

I tried to think of more places Sophia might have gone. Places she liked. We were new to this neighborhood. Maybe she went somewhere we used to go? I thought of the park our mom used to take us to when we were little. It was a long walk, but I decided to check there anyway as a car pulled up beside me.

"Callie!"

It was Stef and Lena. I kept walking. But the car stopped, and Stef got out and caught up with me. "Callie," she said. "You're not going to find her on foot. Get in the car and we'll drive around and look for her. Brandon and Jesus are already out looking."

I paused. Stef had tears in her eyes, just like me. "Please, love?" she pleaded. My heart softened, just a little.

"Fine," I said, climbing into the back seat.

"Do you have any idea where she might have gone?" Lena asked me. "You know her best."

"There's a park about a mile and a half from the school," I told her. "We went there with our mom when we were little. Or she could have gone to the drop-in center."

"We'll check both places," Stef promised.

It didn't take long to get to the park by car. When we pulled up to it, I hopped out before the car even completely stopped. "Sophia?" I shouted, looking around. It was raining harder now, and my hair was plastered to my face.

"Sophia!" I ran to the metal tunnel thing and looked inside, but she wasn't there. Disappointed, I turned away, as fresh tears filled my eyes.

"No sign of her?" Stef asked.

I shook my head. "I was sure she'd be here." Stef hugged me, and I didn't push her away this time.

"We'll check the drop-in center," Lena said. "And if she's not there, we'll call the police."

"No!" I said. "No cops."

"Come on," Stef urged. "Let's get back in the car. I'll call Mariana. Maybe she came home by now?"

I was about to walk away when a flash of red caught my eye in the distance, under the wooden bleachers near the baseball diamond. Sophia's jacket was red. With a fresh surge of energy, I ran toward her, my feet slipping on the wet grass. "Sophia!"

And there she was, huddled under the bleachers, hugging her knees. She was dripping wet. "Callie," she sniffled, jumping up and throwing her arms around my neck.

"I'm here, baby," I said, hugging her so tight that I lifted her off the ground. I kissed her face over and over.

"You shouldn't be here," she said, her voice hoarse. "I'm in trouble."

"I don't care," I told her. "If you're going down, I'm going down with you."

"How did you know I was here?" she asked me.

"It was just a hunch," I explained. "Mom used to take us here. I knew it was a place where you would feel safe." I hugged her tighter as Stef and Lena reached us.

"Sophia!" Lena cried. She was sobbing so hard her shoulders shook. "What were you thinking, sweetheart? You shouldn't even be outside. You're sick." She felt her forehead. "My god, you're burning up."

"You know what I did," she wept. "I heard you talking. Bill's gonna take us away, now. He's gonna separate us."

"That's not true, love," Stef said, kneeling down in the soggy grass and hugging her. "You heard some of what we were talking about. But you didn't hear all of it."

"I didn't?"

"No," said Stef, shaking her head. "You didn't hear the most important part. Bill asked us if we wanted him to take you. But we told him no."

"You did?"

Stef nodded. "We told him we didn't want you to leave. Because we love you. Both of you." She kissed my sister's hot cheek. "Will you please come home with us, baby?"

Sophia looked to me, then back at Stef. "I love you guys too," she sobbed, her face crumpling.

"Let us take you home," Lena begged. "You can take a nice, hot bath, and I'll tuck you into bed. And we'll take you to the doctor first thing in the morning. Okay?"

"Okay," she said.

They began to walk toward the car, when Stef turned back. "You coming, love?"

"Yeah," I said, hurrying to catch up.

* * *

An hour later, Sophia was asleep in her bed, and I was on the couch, bundled up in Stef's soft blue bathrobe, drinking a cup of tea while my pajamas warmed up in the dryer.

My foster moms came to sit across from me. "Are you warm enough, love?" Stef asked.

I nodded. "I'm fine. Thanks." I cleared my throat. It felt scratchy. I wondered if I was coming down with whatever Sophia had. "Look. I'm sorry I yelled at you before. It wasn't your fault. If it was anyone's fault, it was mine." I looked down into my mug, my cheeks burning with shame.

"We understand," she said. "It was scary when Sophia was missing." She tilted my chin up to look me in the eye. "Callie, why did Sophia feel she had no choice but to run away. What happened was just an accident, wasn't it?"

I shivered, even though I was was wrapped in fleece. "I don't want to talk about it."

"That line isn't going to work this time," Lena said softly. "Whatever it is, you can tell us, honey. You can trust us."

Stef nodded. "You're not alone anymore." She cocked her head to the side and her green eyes shone with tears. "You'll never be alone again."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew the truth," I said quietly.

"We want to know so we can help you," she said. "We just want to help you. But we can't if you don't let us."

A lump had formed in my throat. "I'm too scared."

Stef grabbed one of my hands, and Lena took the other. "Whatever you have to say, whatever you have to tell us, we are behind you, one-hundred percent," she told me, kneading my palm. "But you have to open up to us."

I choked on my tears, gasping for breath, and Stef moved closer to me and put her arm around me.

I knew I had no other choice but to tell them the truth. I had nothing else to lose, anyway. "We were living with this guy named Brian," I began, my voice shaky. I took a deep breath, trying to collect myself. "I also had my first boyfriend. His name was Ben. I sneaked out to meet him one night, and when I came home, I couldn't... I couldn't find-"

"Keep going, honey," Lena gently urged. "You're doing good."

"I couldn't find Sophia," I went on, closing my eyes so hard I saw green spots. "I caught Brian molesting her. He was on top of her."

I paused to wipe my tears on my sleeve. "He touched me all the time, but I'd always kept her safe. I couldn't let him do that to her, too. I tried to get him away from her, but he kicked me in the stomach. So, I ran and got a baseball bat, and I hit him with it."

"You're doing so good, baby," Stef whispered in my ear, patting my hand.

"He got up and started beating me," I told them. "I yelled for Sophia to go hide, but she wouldn't leave me. It was like she was frozen. She said she was going to call the cops. But Brian got there first. He pulled the phone jack out of the wall and broke it, and then he started hitting me again. Sophia was crying and screaming for help, and he had me pinned down on the floor. He said he was gonna kill me."

I took a shallow breath. "Sophia got his gun out of the drawer and pointed it at him. Next thing I knew, it fired, and Brian was dead. Sophia killed him." I shuddered. I could almost feel Brian's warm, sticky blood on my arms, soaking into my shirt.

Finished with my story, I broke down, drained and exhausted. Stef took me in her arms, rubbing my back and rocking me, and I hid my face against her chest. I felt Lena sit on my other side and stroke my damp hair.

"My brave little girl," Stef said softly.

"I'm not _brave_," I said, looking up. "None of it would have happened if it wasn't for me. I knew it was a bad idea to leave Sophia home with Brian, but I did it anyway. Don't you see that it's all my fault? My little sister could go to jail because of _me_."

"It's not your fault, baby" she said.

"Yes, it is."

"No it's not," she soothed. "Teenage girls will sneak out to meet boys, Callie. They shouldn't have to worry about if their siblings will be safe at home."

"Stef is right," said Lena. "If Brian wanted to hurt you or your sister, he was going to do it eventually anyway, whether you sneaked out or not."

"He was supposed to protect you girls," Stef went on. "He was supposed to keep you safe. It was his job. No one is to blame for his actions but him."

They hugged me tighter, so I was sandwiched between them. And even though the future was uncertain, I felt lighter than I had in a long time. But there was something I still had to know. "Do you still want us now, knowing what we did?"

Stef and Lena looked at each other for a moment, and I held my breath.

"We will _always _want you," Stef promised me, planting a kiss on my cheek. "Don't you worry about that."

"But what about Sophia?" I asked. "You can't let her go to jail. She's just a kid. She didn't mean to kill him."

"We will do whatever it takes to keep her here with you. With all of us," she assured me. "Sophia did what she had to do to keep the both of you safe. It was self-defense."

"But I'm afraid," I told her quietly.

"I know you are," she said. "But you don't have to face it by yourself. You have us. You have your family."

I nodded; my throat was hurting worse. "Can I go to bed now?" I didn't care that it was only five o'clock.

"Go ahead, sweets," said Lena. She kissed the top of my head. "I'll bring your pajamas up in a minute."

I went upstairs to my room. Sophia was curled up on her side under the covers, sound asleep. Someone had placed her Barbie doll next to her on her pillow. I crawled into my own bed and closed my eyes.

**To Be Continued**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11.

**Callie**

The next morning, Stef asked me if I wanted to stay home from school after all I'd been through the day before, but I told her no. I had to be _doing_ something to take my mind off my problems. I had to keep my mind busy so I wouldn't have too much time to think.

When I came in the door after school, Sophia was laying on the couch, watching TV and drinking a Sprite. "Hi, baby," I said, sitting on the arm of the couch. "What did the doctor say?"

"Double ear infection," she told me. Her cheeks were pink and she was covered in a soft blanket. A bottle of ear drops sat on the coffee table next to an untouched plate of crackers.

"Well, I hope you feel better soon," I told her. I leaned down and kissed her warm forehead. "I love you," I said, smoothing back her hair. She was so cute and sweet. I loved her more than anyone in the world. I didn't ever want to imagine my life without her. How long would it be before I'd have to?

She smiled a little. "I love you too, sissy."

Tears stung my eyes, and I turned my head away. "I've got homework," I told her, before hurrying upstairs.

When I got to my room, I flopped down on my bed, facing the wall, and let myself cry as quietly as I could. I wished I could take the last twenty-four hours back. I hated not knowing what mine and Sophia's future held. With our secret out in the open, I felt out of control, and it scared the hell out of me. Touching my forefinger to the bridge of my nose, I rubbed it, just like I used to do when I was little.

I didn't hear Stef come into the room; I was too lost in my thoughts, and I jumped a little when I felt her sit down on the edge of the bed. "Love?" she whispered, laying her hand on my back. "I'm sorry I startled you. You okay?"

I swiped my tears away. I'd cried more since coming to this house than I had in years, but I still wasn't comfortable crying in front of other people. To me, it showed weakness, and I couldn't be weak. I needed to be strong for my sister.

I turned my head to glance back at her. She looked down at me, concerned. "I'm worried," I admitted.

The next thing I knew, Stef moved closer to me and took me in her arms, like I was a little kid. It was a little embarrassing, but it was nice. I felt cozy and protected, snuggled between her and the wall. I wouldn't tell her that though. I was still determined not to fall in love with her and her family. A big part of me still didn't believe this was going to last.

"Tell me about it," she offered. "I want to know what you're thinking right now."

I rubbed my nose again, absentmindedly. "I'm thinking that I wish I never told you guys the truth."

Stef nodded knowingly. "I understand that. But I'm glad you _did_ tell us. And I bet a part of you, deep down, is glad too, because what happened has been weighing down on you, and now you've got it off your chest." Cradling my head, she pulled me a little closer. "What else?"

"I'm worried about my sister, that she could go to jail," I told her. "She's all I have, and I don't want to lose her." My nose started to run and I sniffled a little. "And I feel guilty, because she shot Brian to protect me."

Stef held my gaze. "Would you have done the same thing if you were in Sophia's place?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, without giving it a second thought. "I would do _anything_ for Sophia."

She nodded again. "I think I would've done what she did too, if someone were hurting Lena or you kids," she confided. _You kids?_ I wondered if I'd heard her right, and she'd really meant to include me and Sophia, or if she'd just made a mistake. "Did Brian hurt or threaten you other times before that night?" she asked me.

I thought back to the nightmarish months we'd spent with Brian, and nodded. "He wasn't that bad until his wife left him," I told her. "Right after that, he started hitting us and calling us names."

"I want to hear about it," Stef told me. Her voice was gentle, not pushy. "I want you to tell me everything, honey. Please?"

I took a shuddering breath, once again struck with the realization that I had nothing left to lose. So what did I have to hide? "Can it be just between you and me?"

"Of course it can," she promised. "I'd never tell anyone anything we talk about unless you wanted me to. You can trust me, honey."

I shifted a little in her arms. "The first time he hit one of us was the night his wife moved out," I said slowly, cautiously. "He found Sophia playing with his wife's jewelry, and he slapped her so hard, he almost knocked her off the chair." I remembered her sitting at our foster mother's dressing table, still wearing a strand of beads and one clip-on earring. She'd just sat there crying, too shocked to do anything, while a red hand print formed on her cheek.

Stef cringed while she listened to me talk."Go on, baby."

"He started beating us all the time after that," I admitted. "Mostly me." My tongue felt thick, and my voice didn't sound like my own. "He used to hit is wife, but after she left, he kind of centered it all on us. He had a gun. The one Sophia shot him with. He'd take it out and clean it in front of her, even though he knew it scared her. He thought it was funny. He used to point the gun at us and threaten to kill us when he was mad. He made us too scared to tell anyone what was going on."

I rested my cheek against Stef's chest. I knew Brian couldn't hurt me anymore, but I still felt scared, thinking about the past. I'd tried to repress these memories, hoping to block them out of my mind forever, and now they were all coming back.

"You said he sexually abused you?" she asked me, lowering her voice.

I nodded, closing my eyes for a moment. "When he was drunk, he would come into my room and touch me at night,_" _I explained. Most of the time, I'd pretended to be asleep while he molested me, even though I was very much awake. I didn't know what else to do but lay there with my eyes squeezed shut. If I stopped him, I knew he would start going after Sophia instead of me. And I'd rather it have been me than her. I didn't tell Stef this, though. I was too ashamed, like maybe she'd think I'd _wanted_ it to happen, because I let him do it. After hearing Brian call me 'slut' and 'whore' practically every day, part of me had started to believe him. I didn't want Stef to think those things of me, too. Even though I didn't want to love her, I still wanted her to like me.

"You and your sister didn't deserve any of that," she said firmly. "You know that, right?"

"I guess so," I shrugged. I looked up at her and frowned. "You mean you actually believe me?"

She nodded her head. "Yes, I believe you, love." She leaned in and kissed the side of my head. "And I want you to try not to worry, okay? We're going to take this one day at a time."

"Okay," I mumbled. After that, we just lay there for a few moments without speaking. The room was silent, except for the whispering sound of Stef's fingers rubbing my arm. Tears trickled down my cheeks and dotted her shirt. My throat felt dry, and I swallowed hard. "Do the other kids know?"

"Know what, baby?" she asked.

"About what happened," I said softly, looking away. "What we did."

"We haven't told them anything," she replied. "We wanted to respect your privacy."

"You should tell them," I told her. "They should know."

* * *

**Stef**

"Why do we even have to tell anyone what really happened?" Lena asked me from across the kitchen table, where we were talking quietly while dinner cooked. "If it was ruled an accident, can't we just consider it over and done?"

"I just don't know," I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Believe me, I don't want to put the girls through more than they've already been through. But we're mandated reporters, Lena. If the truth ever does get out, we could get in a lot of trouble and the girls could too. We have our careers to think about; our kids." I was in a difficult position, torn between practicality and my desire to protect our foster daughters.

"Could Sophia really get sent to jail?" Lena questioned. "Would a judge really do that?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure. But my gut tells me no. She's just a child, and she did what she did in self-defense. Of course, we'd have to have proof." I sighed. "Whatever we do, we don't have to decide right now."

"This is all so complicated," Lena mussed, pulling her fingers through her curls.

I nodded. "But Callie and Sophia are worth it." I stood up. "In the meantime, Callie wants the kids to know what happened. Just the basics. I don't think they need to know any more than that."

My wife nodded. "No time like the present. Sophia's asleep and Callie's upstairs."

We found the kids in the living room. Brandon was sprawled on the couch, reading _Animal Farm_ for English class. I sat down beside him, patting his legs. "Hey, buddy."

"Mom?" he said, glancing up from the pages.

"Why don't you set your book down for a minute?" I asked him. I looked over at the twins. Jesus was teaching Mariana how to play some video game. "Can you guys come over here too? Mama and I need to talk to you about something pretty serious, so we need your attention."

Lena came and sat down beside me, and Jesus paused his game. "What's wrong?" he asked, watching us with curiosity.

My fingers found my temples again and I took a deep breath. "We learned something very sad about Callie and Sophia yesterday," I told them. "And we have Callie's permission to share it with you."

The kids waited for me to continue, so I did, unsure of how to begin. "You see, in the girls' last home," I said, "they lived with an unfit foster father. He abused them physically, sexually, and emotionally. Just before they came here, Callie caught the foster father molesting Sophia. When she tried to get him away from her, he came after her and started beating her. He broke the phone, so Sophia couldn't call the police, and he threatened them. Sophia was scared and she didn't know what else to do, so she took his gun, and she shot and killed him."

The story finished, I watched my kids, gauging their reactions, which ranged from shock to sadness. "I knew there was something weird about them," Mariana piped up.

I gave her a warning look. "I didn't mean weird like _weird_," she clarified. "Just... different." She studied Lena and I questioningly. "Are you still gonna let them live here?"

"Of course we are," Lena nodded. "Honey, they're not dangerous. We would never let them stay if we thought they were."

"Mama's right," I agreed. "They need our help, and we're going to help them however we can."

"What can we do?" Brandon asked, turning to me.

"You can just be supportive," I offered. "Include them in things, make them feel welcome. I know you can all do that. And I'd appreciate if you kept what I just told you to yourselves. It's not gossip, and they don't want a lot of people to know."

"It's kind of scary, though," Mariana fretted, shuddering. "I mean, she actually _killed_ someone."

"I'm sure Sophia doesn't feel good about what she did," Lena said softly. "Sometimes though, in desperate times, you have to do what you have to do."

* * *

**Callie**

After dinner, Sophia felt well enough to get out of bed and play with her Barbies. I watched her from my bed as she took them out and carefully brushed their hair. Then, she replaced them in the house, in different positions. She was rearranging the little living room when someone knocked on our door. "It's open," I called.

The door creaked open and Mariana peeked in. "Can I come in?"

I went to sit down on the floor beside my sister. "I guess so," I said cautiously. I still didn't know what to expect from our foster sister.

She sat down on Sophia's bed and folded her legs up. "So, mom told us what happened in your last home."

I nodded, and Sophia watched her nervously, gripping her doll's hairbrush so tightly in her hand that her knuckles turned white.

"I'm really sorry for how I've treated you guys," she said quietly.

"We don't want pity," I told her flat-out.

"No," she said apologetically. "I know. I've just... I've been a bitch. And I'm really sorry. I know what it's like to be a foster kid. I should have been nicer to you."

"Oh," I said, surprised by her sincerity. "Well, thanks."

She turned to Sophia. "Can I play?"

My sister nodded. "Sure."

Mariana moved to the floor and picked up a doll with a tan and dark brown hair. She was dressed in a bright bikini. "She was always my favorite," she told us. "Her hair changes color when you get it wet. Or it least it used to." She set the doll down, a sad look on her face. "My birth mom was -_is_\- a drug addict," she confided. "She abandoned me and Jesus on Christmas day."

"I'm sorry," I said, and I truly meant it. Sophia and I didn't have it easy now, but we were lucky to have had a mother who loved and cared for us, even if it was just for a little while. She would have _never_ left us if she hadn't died. Mariana's mom _chose_ to leave her. It struck me how much that must hurt. Tentatively, I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder. She cupped her hand over mine and smiled.

"Anyway," she said. "How I've been acting hasn't really been about you guys. Not completely. I've been seeing my birth mom again, so I guess I've been kind of distracted lately."

"You have?" I asked her. This confession surprised me. Stef and Lena were great moms, and I couldn't imagine wanting anything more than them. "Do your moms know?"

"No!" she said, her dark eyes widening with panic. "No one does. Not even Jesus. Please don't say anything to anyone, okay?"

"Okay," I promised, holding my hands up. "Your secret is safe with us." I knew what it was like to have a secret, but even so, I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling Mariana's confession gave me.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm going to tell them eventually. I'm just waiting for the right time."

"Okay," I said, giving her a warning look. "But just... be careful."

**To Be Continued**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12.

**Stef**

"What are you doing?" I asked Lena with a yawn. The day had been exhausting, processing the news, trying to decide how to deal with it. And as much as I just wanted to close my eyes and go to sleep, I knew that in a few hours, I'd have to get out of bed to check on the girls, something I'd been doing since Callie's second night terror.

"Just some research," she said as I climbed into bed. She turned her laptop toward me so I could see the screen. "Counseling for Callie and Sophia."

"They definitely need it," I agreed. "As soon as possible."

"I just can't believe it," Lena mussed. "I mean, I knew something bad happened to them. I just never imagined it was so intense." She lowered her voice. "If I didn't know better, I would never have have guessed it was Sophia who did what she did. I would have guessed Callie." She closed the laptop and set it aside. "She's so protective of her sister and so guarded. Sophia doesn't seem like she has it in her to do something like that."

"I don't know," I said softly. "But I do know that Sophia loves Callie. She felt the need to protect her, and she did." It was remarkable to me that Callie, who _was_ so guarded and detached, had managed to raise Sophia to be the lovable, sensitive girl she is. On the other hand, I'd seen Callie's sweet and loving side too. It was just in hiding most of the time, like she'd built a wall around herself.

I thought back to when _The Hunger Games_ first started getting popular. Mariana had read it, then begged Lena and I to read it, too. Callie and Sophia's relationship reminded me so much of Katniss and Prim's. Callie knew that she and her sister lived in a cruel and unfair world, but no matter what it took, she unselfishly made sure Sophia had as normal a life as possible, even if it cost her her own childhood.

Tears filled my eyes as I thought about all this, but my thoughts were interrupted by Sophia calling us from across the hall.

"We're coming, baby," Lena called back.

We could hear Callie sobbing from our doorway. Apparently, Jesus and Mariana had too. They emerged from their rooms confused, and half-asleep. Brandon slept with his earphones in, of course, so the noise didn't bother him.

"It's okay, guys," I assured the twins, as I opened the girls' bedroom door, and Lena and I went inside. Callie was writhing in her bed, crying for help, while Sophia hugged her pillow and wept.

"It's okay, baby doll," Lena said to Sophia. She went to her bed and took the her in her arms. She kissed and cuddled her, trying to sooth her.

"What's wrong with her, mom?" Jesus asked me, unable to tear his eyes from his foster sister. Mariana looked scared out of her mind.

I went to them and put my hands on each of their shoulders. "Please, guys," I said quietly. "Go back to bed. We'll talk about this another time." I kissed each of their cheeks, then nudged them toward the doorway. I knew they were curious, but I couldn't exploit Callie by allowing an audience in her room.

Once they were in their respective rooms, I went back to my foster daughter. "Sweetheart," I said loudly. "It's Stef. Can you wake up?" But she didn't. She seemed more distraught than ever. I watched her tossing and turning. Already tired and emotional, and unable to wake her, I burst into tears.

"Stef," Lena said, giving me a look of concern. "What is it, honey?"

"I just hate seeing her like this, Lena," I sobbed, brushing my hand across my face. Even though I'd only known Callie a short time, she was already my baby.

"Me too," Lena said softly. "But maybe we should just let her come out of it on her own? She usually goes right back to sleep and doesn't remember anything."

"I know," I nodded, looking down at Callie. "I just don't want her to suffer."

"How about I take Sophia to our bed for the rest of the night?" she offered. "She's still sick and she needs her rest. And you can stay here with Callie?"

"Okay," I agreed.

"Come with me, sweetheart," Lena said to Sophia. "Callie will be okay. You and I can go snuggle for a while." Sophia reluctantly let Lena guide her out of the room.

At a loss, I sat beside Callie and took her hand, trying to still her. Lena was probably right that it was best for her to come out of her night terror by herself. She was sensible like that. But I just couldn't do it, in the same way that I couldn't just let Brandon cry it out when he was a baby. I had to pick him up and cuddle him. Once a mama tiger, always a mama tiger.

"Callie," I said. "Can you hear me, love?" I rubbed her arm, tracing the blue veins under her skin. "What you're seeing isn't real, honey. It's just a picture in your head. You're safe in your room, and I'm right here next to you." Leaning down, I took her head between my hands. "You need to wake up for me, baby. Callie, wake up!"

A moment later, she jerked awake, looking up at me through wild, frightened eyes. I knew she probably didn't remember her nightmare, but I was sure that she knew what was going on. She whimpered, and fresh tears filled her eyes and spilled over.

"I know, honey," I sighed. "I know." I laid down next to her and gathered her in my arms. "Don't cry, love."

"I'm sorry, Stef," she sobbed.

"Sorry?" I asked, brushing her damp hair back from her sticky face. "Sorry for what?"

"For waking you up again," she hiccuped. "I didn't mean to."

With a sigh, I looked her in the eye. "Don't feel sorry for one second, Callie." I swiped a tear from her chin with my thumb. "You've seen some scary things, and those things are hard to forget. I don't blame you for having nightmares, so if you need to wake us up at night, you do it."

"Why are you so nice to us?" she asked. "Why do you still like us after we lied to you and everything?"

My heart broke a little as I studied her sad, dark eyes. Her face was tear-stained and serious as she waited for me to answer. "Because Lena and I love you," I told her. "And love is unconditional."

She nodded, just barely, and I pulled her closer and kissed the tip of her nose. "Close your eyes now, honey. I'm right here."

* * *

I woke up earlier than usual the next morning, to the smell of bacon cooking. Slipping out of Callie's room, I went downstairs. Lena was at the stove, and the kitchen smelled wonderful. "You're up early," I said, resting my chin on her shoulder.

"I thought the kids would like a real breakfast this morning," she told me, lifting a piece of bacon from the frying pan with a long fork and laying it on a paper towel. "How did you and Callie sleep last night?"

"She actually went down pretty fast," I said. I reached for a piece of bacon, and she playfully slapped my hand.

"We have to do something," she sighed. "We can't wait any longer to get them into therapy. They can't live like this. It's not fair to them."

I nodded in agreement, busying myself with making coffee. "The only problem is, a therapist will have to report what happened to the authorities. But in some ways, I almost think that would be for the best, just to settle the matter so they can move on and get some closure."

"But they're still so scared," Lena fretted, as Mariana came into the room.

She took one look at the bacon and wrinkled her nose. "I can't eat that," she said.

"I don't know what we're going to do with you, Miss Thing," Lena teased. "You won't eat eggs, you won't eat cheese..."

"I'll have a banana," she said, reaching into the fruit bowl.

"How about some toast to go with it?" I offered, wanting her to have more in her stomach than just a banana.

"Thanks, mom," she nodded. She began to peel her banana carefully. "What was wrong with Callie last night?" she asked. "It was like she was possessed."

I sat across from her and took a sip of my coffee. "It's called a night terror," I told her. "She has frightening, intense dreams that are hard to wake up from. And when she does wake up from them, she doesn't remember them. So please, don't mention it to her when she comes downstairs."

"Okay," she agreed. She lowered her head, playing with her banana peel. "I feel sorry for them."

"So do we, sweetheart," I told her. "But we're going to help them get through this."

* * *

**Callie**

After school, Stef and Lena dropped a bombshell on us.

"Did we do something wrong?" Sophia asked, when they came up to our room to talk to us. She moved closer to me, still terrified of getting in trouble in our new home. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it, then wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

"No, sweets," Lena said patiently. "We just wanted to discuss something with you." She paused, looking at each of us. "Girls, it's not fair that the two of you have to live with what happened like you have been. We can see how it's weighing down on you. So, we were wondering how you would feel about seeing a therapist?"

"A therapist?" I asked. "We saw one while we were at the group home." She was the one who diagnosed my panic attacks. She said they were triggered by my mother's death. If she only knew.

Stef nodded. "But this will be a little different, honey. I'm guessing you never truly opened up to the person you saw while you were there. Am I right?"

"Yes," I sheepishly admitted, playing with my shoelace.

"The school guidance counselor recommended someone to me," Lena told us. "I talked to her today, and she sounded very nice. The two of you can even see her together. You can talk out your feelings about what happened, and figure out how to move past it."

"We can't lie to you, though," Stef said quietly, taking our hands. "You need to know what to expect. Your therapist will have to report what really happened with Brian. It's the law, and there's no avoiding that. But I don't want either of you to worry about-"

My head jerked up and I pulled my hand away. "How can we not worry?" I asked. I jumped to my feet and gave them a defiant look. "We're not going, and you can't make us."

"No, we can't _make_ you," Stef agreed. "But we really think you should go. It's for your own good, love."

_"No!"_ I shouted, my heart pounding hard in my chest and my ears. I breathed heavily, too upset to see straight. "_Ugh!_ I wish I never told you anything! I knew we shouldn't have trusted you! You're just like everyone else." I turned away and stomped off toward the bathroom, tears blurring my eyes.

"Callie!" Stef called, following me.

"Just leave me alone!" I cried, looking back at her. "I can't believe I _trusted_ you. I'll never tell you anything again!"

**To Be Continued**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13.

**Callie**

I flushed the toilet, then rinsed my mouth. My stomach burned like it was full of battery acid instead of the salad I had for lunch. Sinking down on the cool bathroom floor, I folded my knees to my chest, hugging myself, trying to calm my racing heart.

"Callie? Love?"

I sighed as Stef came into the bathroom, angry with myself for not locking the door. I didn't look up when she sat down across from me. "Did you get sick?"

I nodded, letting my hair cover my face.

Stef was quiet for a long time; such a long time that I was starting to get worried.

Then, she finally spoke up. "Callie, it would break my heart if the relationship you and I have were ruined; if I did anything to break your trust."

I glanced up at her for a split second, and there were tears in her eyes.

"You're very special to me," she went on. "I'm sorry if you feel like mama and I betrayed you, or went behind your back. But I promise you, honey, we're not like the others. We only wanted to help you and Sophia. But if you truly aren't ready to see a therapist, we won't force you." She paused, nudging my sneaker with her foot. "Say something, baby. Please?"

It was hard to stay mad at her. Here she was, a tough cop, and she was crying right in front of me. Slowly, my anger started to change to sympathy. "I know you're not like the others," I said quietly.

Stef smiled her pretty smile, even with the tears. "Thank you, honey."

"I'm sorry too," I apologized. "I shouldn't have talked to you like that. I didn't mean it. I have these panic attacks sometimes. It won't happen again."

She reached out for my hand, and I let her take it. "I forgive you, Callie. Do you forgive me?"

I nodded. "Yes."

She massaged my knuckles with her thumb, looking up at me. "I'm so glad to hear that, because I don't know what I'd do without you, honey. You're my only Slug-a-bug." She winked at me and smiled. "I know you're not much of a hugger, but can I have one?"

"I guess so," I said.

She pulled me into her arms and hugged me tight, and didn't let go for a long time. "I love you so much, baby," she said, pressing her nose into my hair and kissing my cheek.

While she held me, I thought about the times she'd been there for me; how she got up during the night to comfort me when I had a nightmare; how she gave me a special nickname, like the way she called Brandon, B. and Mariana, Miss. thing; how she took me and my sister shopping for the things we needed. I wrapped my arms tighter around her neck and breathed in the sent of her perfume.

It hit me with a sinking feeling that I'd done exactly what I wasn't supposed to do. I'd fallen in love with her.

* * *

Lena and Sophia were still in our room when Stef and I went back. They sat on the bed, talking quietly. When my sister saw me, she looked up, nervously.

"Lena, Callie has something she wants to say to you," Stef said, placing her hands on my shoulders.

I look back at her and swallowed. My throat was dry and my mouth tasted like crap. I wished I'd taken the time to brush my teeth. "I'm sorry for the way I acted," I apologized. "I didn't mean the things I said."

Lena stood up and hugged me. "It's okay, sweetheart. I understand. We all lose our heads sometimes."

I nodded. "Thanks."

Sophia turned to me, then. "Callie," she said. "I have something important to tell you."

"What is it?" I asked.

"I've been thinking about it," she told me, "and I'm going to the therapist."

My eyes widened, and the panic started to come back in my chest. "Sophia, no. You can't."

"Yes, I can," she said. She sounded a little surprised at herself. "And you can't stop me."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," I breathed. "Do you know what could happen? Do you _want_ to ruin your life?"

She stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. "My life is _already_ ruined. Can't you see that?"

She sat back down, and squeezed her eyes shut. Tears gushed out, running down her cheeks. "I can still feel the gun in my hand, Callie. I see it every time I close my eyes. I'm tired of being scared all the time. I don't even care if I go to jail anymore. I just want to feel better."

"Sophia, think carefully about this..." I warned.

She brushed her tears away. "I just want to get help. I'm going to the therapist. You don't have to, but _I _am."

* * *

Later, I sat on the porch swing, letting my legs dangle. My mood hadn't improved, but had only gotten worse; I'd gone outside to avoid snapping at anyone else; it was better for everyone to remove myself from the situation for a little while.

Swinging slowly, I plucked the petals off a wildflower and tossed them on the ground, thinking depressing thoughts. I was mad at my sister, and I was scared for the both of us, too. I'd done so much to protect her, and I'd do it all again, because she was my little sister and I loved her. Keeping The Brian Thing a secret hadn't been easy for me, either; it haunted me just as much as it haunted her, so I understood _why _she wanted help, but I was more interested in immediate needs. We had a safe, loving home, and we were together. To me, that was all that mattered. If we were apart, nothing would matter. And I wasn't ready to lose the Fosters. Not yet, not like that.

I looked up as Jesus came out on to the porch. "Hey," he said. He sat down next to me on the swing, making the chains creak.

"Hey," I grunted, in no mood for company.

"Look, I heard what happened," he said. He shrugged. "Sorry. I couldn't help overhearing. I live in the next room."

I nodded, without looking up.

"You can't protect them from everything," he said quietly. "Trust me. I know."

I glanced at him, curious despite my mood. "What do you mean?"

He kicked back, lounging on the bench, disturbing it again. "My birth mom was a drug addict," he said. "She would leave us, sometimes all day and night, so she could go out and get high with whichever douche-bag she was dating. When she came back, she would act like nothing ever happened. She'd bring us presents, and apologize, and cry. Mariana always fell for it."

"That's too bad," I said. From what I'd heard from Mariana, the twins were only five when their mother left them. Who left two five-year-old kids alone?

"When Ana -that's our mom- was gone, I took care of Mariana," he went on. "I'd tell her we didn't need Ana, and that when she came back, we wouldn't even talk to her. Then, when she walked in the door, giving us those fake lines like she always did, Mariana would run right into her arms. She would try so hard to please her, and then a few days later, Ana would just ignore us again. Even at that age, I knew my sister was only setting herself up to get hurt. I tried to warn her, and then finally, I just gave up. She figured it out for herself when Ana abandoned us."

"You want to protect your sister from everything," he told me, watching me with dark, sad eyes. "But sometimes you just can't."

Wow. That was the most I'd ever heard Jesus say. It was the most he'd ever said to me. "Mariana is really lucky," I told him, and I meant it. "You seem like a good brother."

"Thanks," he said. "I _am _two minutes older. And... you seem like a good big sister, too." He got up, rocking the swing. "Just remember that whatever happens, moms have your back." He turned and went inside.

**To Be Continued- Callie and Jesus have never had a scene together, have they? I just had to give them one in this story.**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14.

**Lena**

"Can I help?"

I turned from the dinner dishes to see Sophia standing behind me. "Sure, sweetheart. I'd like that." I handed her a clean dishtowel. "You want to dry?"

"Okay," she nodded, unfolding the towel. "I used to help my mom do this."

"I used to wash the dishes at home when I was a kid," I told her. "I would always daydream while I did them."

"Me too," she smiled. "After we went in the system, I mean. When it wasn't fun anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, mom and I would talk and stuff," she explained. "She made it like a game. But in the foster homes, it was a chore, so it was boring."

"I see," I smiled. "Maybe you and I could make this a regular thing, honey? Would you like that?"

"I'd love it," she grinned. "Thanks, Lena."

"You're welcome, sweets." I turned on the faucet and rinsed a dish, then passed it to her. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better," she said. "Do you think I can go back to school tomorrow?"

I thought about it. "I suppose so," I nodded. "You've been fever-free for twenty-four hours."

"Good," she said. She put the dish in the drain rack. "Lena?"

"Yes?"

"I was kind of wondering something." She paused, not quite looking me in the eye.

"What is it?" I asked, giving her my full attention.

"Can I... I mean, would you mind if I- if I called you Mama, like the other kids do?" She blushed deeply.

"Honey," I sighed. I put the mug I was washing back in the sink and looked down at her, biting my lip. "I'm flattered that you want to call me Mama. But I don't think it's appropriate right now."

"Oh." Her little face fell, and I felt terrible. I knew that it must have been so hard for her to ask me that question.

I reached out to rub her shoulder. "It's not that I don't want you to, baby. I'd be proud to be your Mama. But there are certain boundaries I have to maintain as your foster mother."

"I understand," she nodded without looking up,

I pulled her closer and hugged her. "But it doesn't change how I feel about you," I assured her. "I love you very much."

"I love you too," she said, smiling sadly. She set the dish towel down. "It's getting late. I better go take a shower for school."

"Okay, honey," I said. "I'll be up to say goodnight." I watched her go upstairs, my heart aching.

* * *

**Callie**

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I was changing for bed that night. I stood there, holding my nightshirt with one hand, and lightly touching my stomach with the other. I looked different since coming to the Fosters. My bruises were fading. They were yellow and green now instead of black and purple. I twisted my upper body, and only felt a dull ache in my ribs, instead of excruciating pain. They were healing. I squeezed the little bit of baby fat just below my bellybutton; it had gone away while we lived with Brian. He never let us have enough to eat to keep any fat on us.

I was still looking at myself when Sophia came into the room, dressed in her bathrobe."What are you doing?" she asked me.

I turned to her, and I couldn't help but notice that she was starting to fill out too. "Nothing," I said, a little embarrassed that she'd walked in on me. I pulled my nightshirt over my head.

"Sissy?" she said quietly.

"Yeah?" I pulled my hair back, then sat down on my bed.

She gave me an unsure look. "I don't want us to fight." She looked down at her bare feet, scuffling her toes on the carpet. "I hate that you're mad at me. Can't we just be friends again?"

"We never stopped being friends," I sighed. "We're sisters. We'll always be friends."

"But you're still mad..." she said.

I shrugged, wishing I could tell her that it wasn't that I was _mad_ at her, but that I was scared for her. I couldn't do that, though. I was the oldest, and she needed me to be her rock. "I just don't think going to the therapist is a good idea," I said. "You don't deserve to get in trouble for what you did. Brian was abusing us. He would have killed us if you didn't kill him first."

Sophia came over and sat down on the bed beside me. "I didn't even mean to kill him," she confided. "I just wanted to hurt him enough so that we could get away. I was so scared."

"I should have protected you better," I said, putting my arm around her, hugging her from the side. "I should never have left you. If I just stayed home, none of this would have ever happened." I flinched as I spoke. Knowing this was something I had to live with, and I felt guilty about it every day of my life, despite what Stef and Lena had told me. "It's my fault. I let you down, baby."

"You didn't know," she said, resting her head against my shoulder. "I don't blame you for what happened."

"Then you're a much better person than I am," I said, pressing my nose into her hair. I separated from her, turning her to look at me. "Tell me the truth, Soph. Do you think you _have _to go to the therapist to please Stef and Lena? I know how much you want them to like you."

"No," she said, shaking her head.

"Are you sure?" I pressed, cupping her chin in my hand, forcing her to look me in the eye. If that was the case, and she was trying to please our foster parents, it was typical Sophia; she wanted to be loved so badly.

"Yes," she insisted. "I want to do it for me."

"Okay," I said, not entirely convinced.

"You can't talk me out of it," she said. "I've made up my mind."

I bit my lip as a thought developed in the back of my mind. "Then let me take the blame."

"What?" She gave me a confused look.

"If you go to the therapist, we'll tell her _I_ shot the gun," I explained. "If one of us has to get in trouble, it should be me."

"No!" she cried. Her dark eyes suddenly got watery and tears rolled down her face. "I won't let you do that!"

"Hey, don't cry about it," I sighed, rubbing her back. "Think of it this way- you would finally have a home and a family. Stef and Lena would keep you. I know they would. I'd feel okay about leaving you with a family like them, if I had to."

"I don't want a home _or_ a family if you're not there," she sniffled, balling her fists.

"Don't you think I feel the same way?" I asked. "If you tell people what happened, you would be leaving _me _behind."

"Your plan wouldn't work anyway," she said. "The cops already know I did it. They would know you lied." She wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her bathrobe, her shoulders slumped. "I miss mommy. I wish she was here."

"Me too," I said, absentmindedly brushing my finger across my nose.

"Remember when we were little?" my sister asked. "Mom would dress us like twins for church and stuff." Her tear-streaked face brightened a little.

"Yeah," I smiled, ruffling her damp hair. "You were so cute." I'd never resented my little sister, like some kids did. I loved her from the moment I saw her.

Sophia looked up at me, her eyes shining. She reached out and touched the gold pendant I wore around my neck. "I used to love when she would read to us and use different voices for the characters."

"Her favorite story was _Hansel and Gretel_," I nodded. Our mother loved books. "And she always cried at the end of _Charlotte's Web_. But... I didn't think you remembered any of that stuff, Soph."

She shrugged. "Sometimes, something little pops into my head. But I'm never sure if it's a real memory, or if I just dreamed it."

"Well, you can always ask me," I offered. "I remember her. I could tell you if it's real."

"Her hair was darker than yours, but you look just like her," she told me, still toying with my necklace. "When I start to forget what she looked like, I just look at you." She snuggled a little closer. "I miss having a mom."

"Me too," I said softly. My voice was shaky, and I knew I was close to tears. I tried to think of something else to shake them away.

"I want Stef and Lena to be our new moms," she went on. "Every night I wish they would adopt us."

"Don't get your hopes up," I gently warned. Wishes only came true in fairy tales, and especially not in our lives.

"They adopted Jesus and Mariana," she pointed out. "It wouldn't be fair if they adopted them and not us."

I didn't really understand her reasoning there; Stef and Lena could adopt whoever the heck they wanted, but I understood where she was coming from, and it made my heart hurt. "Life isn't fair, kiddo," I reminded her. I sounded just like our dad. He used to say the same thing whenever we didn't get our own way about something. And he was right.

"You know," I said. "You and I belong together. Mom would want me to protect you. That's all I'm trying to do."

"I know," she nodded. Her eyes had a faraway look in them.

"Are you still going to go?" I asked, hoping she'd changed her mind.

"I have to, Callie," she said. "I wish you could understand that."

My heart sunk to my feet. "Okay." I crawled out of bed and stood up. "I'll be right back. I need to brush my teeth."

* * *

**Stef**

"Penny for your thoughts?" Lena asked, rolling over in bed to face me.

I blinked, her voice bringing me out of a trance.

"You've been on page twenty-five for fifteen minutes," my wife teased, looking down at the book I was holding, one of those crime-drama thrillers I usually devoured.

I set my book aside and took off my reading glasses. "I guess I'm just distracted tonight. I've been thinking about Callie and Sophia. Those girls get to me every time."

"Me too," she said. "Sophia asked me if she could call me Mama tonight. Do you know how hard it was to tell her no?"

I nodded sympathetically; there were certain times when it was so incredibly hard not to become too attached to the kids we fostered. "They have so much at stake," I mussed. "Callie's so beaten down. She doesn't believe anyone could love her. And Sophia's so desperate to _be_ loved. And they're facing this huge thing. They must be so scared."

"I'm just glad they don't have to face it alone," she said. "They have us."

"Lena," I said, turning to lock eyes with her. "Have you given any thought to adopting them?"

"Yes," she admitted, after a long silence. "But I wasn't sure if you would be on board. You've been pretty adamant about not wanting any more kids, honey."

"Well," I shrugged. "That was before I met these two." The Jacob sisters filled a space in my heart that I hadn't even known was empty.

"You know," I went on. "Callie's only aspirations for the future are to turn eighteen and become Sophia's guardian. And that's probably what will happen. Bill is trying to find them a permanent home, but the truth is, it's unlikely. Callie will most likely age out of the system first, and then she and her sister will be left out in the cold."

"That would be so sad," Lena shuddered. "They deserve so much more than that. Who would want to live life without love and a family?"

"I think we need to do this," I decided. "I know they belong with us. And if we don't adopt them, then who will?" I had a feeling that what had happened with Brian would only make things harder for them. "I love them so much."

"So do I," she agreed. She laughed a little. "Can you imagine how happy they'd be if we told them?"

"Our babies." I pictured their faces in my mind. I could hardly contain my excitement. "But we'd better not tell them just yet..." I warned, as much as I wanted to go their room right then and there.

"We still have a lot to figure out," Lena nodded. "A lot to discuss." She smiled a tight-lipped, mischievous smile. "But it will be so hard to keep it a secret."

* * *

**Callie**

I walked right past the bathroom and down the stairs to the kitchen. My legs felt like they were made of Jell-O, and my chest felt tight. What was I going to do? I felt desperate, and completely hopeless. Sophia wasn't going to listen to me, that much was clear. But how could I protect her if she wouldn't let me? I'd listened when Jesus had told me that I couldn't protect my sister from everything, but I still felt that I had to, for both our sakes.

I filled a glass with water and drank it down, trying to calm my panic attack before it started. I was putting my glass in the sink, when I saw Bill's card tacked the the family bulletin board. He'd given it to Stef and Lena the day he brought us here. It had his cell number on it too. He gave it to us in case of emergencies after The Brian Thing.

That little voice in my head that told me to do reckless things perked up. I plucked the card off the board and studied it. The phone was right there on the counter. I picked it up, and carried it to the table and sat down. I must have stared at it for at least five minutes, wrestling with myself, trying to decide what to do. I didn't want to lose the Fosters. I loved them. All of them, even though I'd been trying so hard not to. But at the same time, if we ended up with another foster family who could care less about us, our secret would be safe again. In the end, my love for my sister won out.

I dialed Bill's number. He answered on the sixth ring.

"Callie?" he asked, when I told him who was calling. "It's late. Is something wrong?"

"No," I said. "Not really. I just needed to talk to you about something."

"I'm listening," he promised. "Shoot." In the background, I could hear his TV.

"You need to find us another foster home," I explained. "Things aren't working out here."

The line went quiet, and I heard his TV go off. "You're not happy with Stef and Lena?" He sounded surprised.

"It's not that we're not happy..."

"What did you do now, Callie?" he sighed. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I didn't _do _anything," I insisted, a little insulted that he immediately put the blame on me. "It's just like I said. Things aren't working out."

He shuffled some papers and cleared his throat. "You're not gonna find a better home than the Fosters, Cal. Do you realize how lucky you are to be with them?"

"Please, Bill," I begged. "Just trust me on this."

"Alright, alright," he sighed. "I'll see what I can do. But no promises."

"Thank you," I said. "Bye."

"Bye."

I ended the call, staring into space, my eyes fixed on the dripping faucet of the sink. I'd done it, and there was no going back now. I just didn't know it would hurt so much.

* * *

I didn't feel like getting out of bed the next morning. I rolled over and kicked off the covers, then rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Sophia was already up and getting dressed. "You going to school today?" I asked her.

"Mm-hm," she nodded. "Lena said my fever's been gone long enough that I can." She picked up her brush and pulled it through her messy hair. "Aren't you getting up?"

"Yes," I said. "Slowly."

"Come on," she said, coming over and taking my hand to help me up. Finally, I rolled out of bed and picked out some clothes, then quickly got dressed. But I didn't feel any better. I felt terrible. _I did what I did out of love_, I reminded myself. But I still couldn't look at myself in the mirror.

I followed Sophia downstairs. "Good morning, my loves," Stef smiled. "Grab whatever looks good. It's a cereal morning."

I took a bowl and filled it with shredded wheat, then sat down at my place between Brandon and my sister. I held the spoon to my mouth, but I couldn't get it past my lips.

"Aren't you gonna eat?" Brandon asked me, smiling a little.

"I'm not really hungry," I admitted, pushing the bowl away.

"I see," he nodded.

I heard the phone ring, but I pretended not to notice. Mariana answered it. "Moms!" she called. "Phone for you!"

"Really, you don't need to yell, honey," Lena said. "We're right here." She took the phone and she and Stef went into the other room.

"I noticed you looking at my guitar the other day," Brandon told me. "Do you play?"

I swallowed a sip of juice; my throat was so dry. "Yeah," I said. "Um, a little." I glanced over at the living room, trying to hear what was going on. "My mom taught me."

"You can use it whenever you want, you know," he said. "If you want to practice or whatever. I don't play guitar too much anymore."

"Thanks," I smiled. "That's really nice of you."

Stef and Lena came back into the kitchen then. Lena was gripping the phone in her hand. They both looked upset, as if they were barely keeping it together.

"That was Bill," said Stef, rubbing her temples. "Apparently, he's found a new foster home for Callie and Sophia."

**To Be Continued**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15.

**Callie**

By now, I knew enough that Stef and Lena weren't going to beat the crap out of me. But I was still scared, not of what they were going to do to me, but of the looks on their faces; they looked so hurt. I looked down at my shoes, wondering if I'd made a mistake.

"Callie, what is going on?" Stef asked me. "Bill says you called him and asked to be taken from our home. Did you?"

I looked back at my sister. She was already crying. My face felt hot and sweaty. I wiped my palms on my jeans. "I- um..."

Stef turned to Brandon, Jesus and Mariana. "You guys can walk to school, yes?"

They looked to each other and nodded. "Yeah, sure," Brandon agreed.

"Then go ahead," she said. "You don't want to be late."

Our foster siblings left, leaving us alone. Sophia turned to me, angry. "I'm never going to forgive you!" she shouted. "You wrecked everything! I loved it here!" Her face crumpled and she started to cry harder.

"Sophia, I'm sorry-" I stammered. I never thought she'd find out that I called Bill; I thought he'd just come and get us without any explanation. Now I felt worse than ever. I looked down at my worn high tops, feeling like pond scum.

Lena went over to my sister and put her hands on her shoulders. Leaning down, she said softly, "Honey, before we get upset, let's let Callie explain."

Sophia shook her head. "I don't want to go. I love it here." She took a shaky breath. "I love it here," she repeated, hiccuping.

Lena sighed, and gave Sophia a hug. "You're not going anywhere," she promised her. "You're staying right here with us. I promise, sweets."

Seeing Lena hold Sophia, I felt even more uncomfortable. I jumped a little when I felt Stef touch my arm. "Come here, love," she said. "Please?" I nodded, and let her put her arms around me, even though I didn't deserve a hug. "We need to have a talk," she said. She let go of me and she led us to the living room couch. "Have a seat."

I sat down, hardly daring to look anyone in the eye. My shoulders were tense and heavy.

"Callie, you need to explain what's going on," Stef began, watching me carefully. "Do you really want to leave?"

Looking not in her eyes, but just past her shoulder, I nodded. "Yes. It's what I want."

"Are you sure?" Her eyes were searching me, trying to find answers.

"It's just for the best," I lied. "You don't need us and our problems and our baggage. We're just a burden to you."

Stef nodded, then turned to my sister. "Sophia, love, why don't you go up to your room for a little while, so we can talk to Callie?"

"Okay." She stood up, but didn't go anywhere.

"Please, sweetheart," Stef pleaded. "Now."

This time, Sophia hurried up the stairs, and I heard the door to our room shut.

"Do you really think you're a burden to us, honey?" Stef asked me, once my sister was out of earshot.

I nodded. "Yes."

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it, like I always did for Sophia. "That could not be further from the truth, slug-a-bug. You girls are very much wanted. We love you."

I chewed my lip, close to tears. I couldn't understand how they could still say they loved me after I'd betrayed them. It didn't make any sense.

Stef and Lena turned to each other, looking into each other's eyes, communicating somehow. Stef nodded just slightly, then Lena spoke up. "Honey, you know you're not fooling, us, right?" she asked.

I didn't answer.

"We know you called Bill because you were scared about Sophia's decision to see a therapist," she said slowly.

"We're not gonna yell," Stef promised. "We're not gonna get mad. We just want to know what you're thinking."

"I just-" my voice caught in my throat. Then, I blurted out the truth. "I just thought that if we went somewhere else, she wouldn't be able to go and she'd forget about it. That things would go back to normal and we'd be safe again." I took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, my heart thumping in my chest.

Still holding my hand, Stef nodded. "Callie, it breaks our heart that you felt you had to leave to be safe. You _are _safe here. If only you could see that."

"I wish you guys never brought up the therapist," I admitted. "Things were going good." My eyes stung and I blinked hard.

Stef let go of my hand and stroked my back. "We didn't know it would upset you so much. We were just trying to help you stop hurting."

"I'm scared of what's going to happen to us," I sniffled. My gums ached and my eyes burned. "I'd rather hurt forever than face it."

"You shouldn't _have_ to hurt forever," she told me. She rubbed my back in circles. "It's normal to be scared about the future, baby. But you aren't going to have to face it alone. Do you really think we would just throw you and Sophia to the wolves? We would never do that. If what happened with Brian goes to court, we'll do whatever it takes. We have a lawyer. We'll testify for you. We'll support you and Sophia every step of the way. And when it's all over, we'll still be there. Because we're your family, and that's what a family does."

I looked up at her, surprised. "But you're not our real family."

"DNA doesn't make a family," Lena said, patting my knee. "Love does."

"And we love you like crazy," Stef added, kissing my cheek. "We want you to stay, sweetheart."

I thought hard for a minute, back to the night before, and how hopeless and out of control I felt. Maybe someday, if what Stef and Lena were saying was true, I'd never have to feel that way again. "I never really wanted to leave," I carefully confided. "Calling Bill was really hard. I just felt... I felt like I had no choice." I pressed my fingertips to the bridge of my nose. "I had a panic attack. I just got scared and panicked."

"Have you been having panic attacks for long?" Lena asked me.

"Since The Brian Thing," I told her. "Since after that night." I rubbed my nose, letting the tip of my thumb rest on my top lip. When I was a little girl, I sucked my thumb whenever I was worried or scared. I wished I was still little, so I could suck on it now.

"What happens when you have a panic attack, Callie?"

"I feel sick," I told her. "My chest hurts and I can't breath. My face gets hot, and I feel scared, and I can't calm down."

Lena moved closer to me, and put her arm around me. "Sweetheart, a therapist could help you with your panic attacks. She could help you learn to control your anxiety. Mariana used to have panic attacks, too, you know."

"She did?" This was news to me.

"Mm-hm," she said. "Whenever Stef and I left her sight, even for a minute, it terrified her. She was so afraid we were going to leave her forever."

Like her birth mom did, I thought to myself.

"It got to the point that she wouldn't even go to school," Lena went on. "She would cry every morning until she made herself sick. So, we took her to a therapist, and it took a while, but her panic attacks finally stopped. She hasn't had one in years." She combed her fingers through my hair, looking down at me. "You haven't been getting the help you deserve, sweetheart. But it doesn't have to be that way. Sophia recognizes that, and I think a tiny part of you does, too. You girls deserve a happy, healthy life."

"You just need to let us take some of the burden," Stef said, pulling me closer. "It's too heavy for you to carry alone." She smiled, squeezing my hand one last time. "Do you want me to call Bill and explain what happened- that it was a mistake, and he doesn't need to come?"

"Yes," I nodded. "Please. And I'm really, really sorry."

"It's okay," she said. "We still love you," she added, with a wink.

"Let me get Sophia, and we'll head for school," Lena offered. "I'll be right back." She turned to the stairs.

* * *

The ride to school wasn't very long. I sat in the passenger seat, looking out the window. Sophia was quiet too, and I figured she was still mad at me. We passed some shops along the road, and I looked back. "Hey, Lena?"

"Yeah?" she said, glancing at me.

"Can I please walk the rest of the way to school? I just want to be alone for a little while."

She stopped the car on the side of the road. "I suppose so, as long as you really plan to come to school."

"I do," I promised. "I just need some space."

"Okay," she said. "Go ahead."

I unbuckled my seat belt. "Thanks." Then, I slipped out of the car and watched them drive away. Once they were out of sight, I walked back to a used bookstore I'd seen and went inside. I didn't have a lot of time, so I browsed the Children's section quickly, until I found what I was looking for, a copy of _Hansel and Gretel_. It was worn around the edges, like it had been read a lot. I paid for it with crumpled dollar bills, then ran to school.

Later, in study hall, I wrote a note to go with the book.

_Sophia,_

_I just wanted to give you a little something to say I'm sorry, and to show you how much I love you, even though I know a gift can't really make up for what I did. I thought this book might bring back some good memories for you. You don't have to keep it if it makes you feel too sad, though. I'll understand.  
_

_You're the most important person in the world to me, and I thought I was protecting you by doing what I did. But now I know I wasn't. I was keeping you- and me- from getting the help we deserve, because I was scared. But I don't want to be scared anymore, so I decided I'm going to go to the therapist with you. We'll face it together, just like we always have._

_Love you always,_

_Callie_

I folded the note and stuck it in the book. Then, when we got home that afternoon, I slipped into our room and left it on her pillow.

**To Be Continued**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16. (warning- this chapter contains some mentions of child abuse.)

**Callie**

The night before our therapy appointment, Sophia was quiet; she went right up to our room after dinner and stayed there.

After I helped Stef with the dishes, I went up to check on her. I found her on her bed, laying on her stomach, writing in her notebook. "Hey," I said. "What'cha doing?"

"Writing," she answered without looking up.

I couldn't help but smile a little. "I see that." I went over to her bed and sat down. "What are you writing about?"

She looked up at me. Her eyes were so dark, I could see a tiny me reflected in them. "You can look," she said, pushing the notebook a few inches toward me.

I patted her on the bottom, then stretched out beside her. I glanced down at her paper, and Brian's name jumped write out at me. She was writing about _that_ _night_ again.

"Now that everyone knows what happened, I thought it would be okay to keep my journal again," she told me. "Is it?"

I leaned over and kissed her cheek. "If it make you feel better, it's okay with me."

"It does make me feel better," she confided. "Kind of." She smoothed out the page in front of her. "It's like, getting it all out on paper makes me feel more in control, like I can finally face it."

"Then you _should _keep it," I said. "I'm sorry I ruined your first one, Soph. I didn't know it was so important to you."

I pulled the notebook closer and skimmed the first page. I read about how I'd sneaked out that night, and how Sophia started doing the dishes; how she was supposed to say I'd gone to bed early because I didn't feel well. I read about how Brian came into the kitchen and lured Sophia into his room. I stopped there, unsure if I wanted to go on. Just looking at it, I could tell she'd written in graphic detail. "You know, you never really told me what he did to you," I said quietly. "I know it's kind of uncomfortable to talk about."

"It's embarrassing," she admitted, fidgeting. "He did weird things to me."

"What do you mean 'weird things'?" I asked. My over-protective instincts perked up. "Sophia, he didn't put his _thing_ inside you, did he?" I put my hand on her arm and gave her a firm look. "Tell me." I felt my heart speed up, thudding hard in my chest.

She shook her head hard, and her cheeks turned red. "No. Not that. But he did put his finger in me." She lowered her voice to a strained whisper. "It hurt."

I took a deep breath, relieved in a way. If he _had_ raped her, he was lucky he was dead. I would have done much worse to him, myself. But at the same time, a lump formed in my throat and my heart ached, because my little sister had _still _been violated. Suddenly, I felt cold. I moved closer to her, so we were nearly cheek-to-cheek.

"You don't have to be embarrassed about it, baby," I said softly. I pressed another kiss to her cheek. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything to make it happen."

"I know that..." she sighed.

"Good," I said. "Don't ever forget it." I brushed back her long hair, tucking it behind her ear. "Did you know that he used to touch me, too?" I'd never told her anything about the sexual abuse that went on while she was asleep at night. I thought she was too young, and I wanted her to stay as innocent as possible for as long as she could. No easy feat growing up in the system.

She nodded. "Sort of. I mean, I kind of suspected it."

"I never wanted him to hurt you like that," I told her. "I wish it never had to happen to you. But I know what you're going through, Soph. So, you're not alone."

She reached out and placed her soft little hand over mine. Finally, the lump in my throat went away.

I could tell she didn't want to talk about it anymore. And I didn't either. But I didn't want the closeness I felt with her at that moment to end; lately there had been so much tension between us. I rolled over on my side and held my arms out for her. "Come here, kid. Let me squeeze ya'."

Smiling, Sophia put her pen in her notebook like a bookmark and closed it, then scooted over and snuggled against me. I planted a kiss on her forehead and stroked her hair. "I love you so much, Sophie bug," I told her. "I know I haven't acted like it lately, but I'm really proud of you." I pressed my forehead against hers and looked her deep in the eye. "I think you're the bravest person I know."

* * *

**Stef**

"Have you seen Callie and Sophia?" I asked Lena, coming into the kitchen.

"No," she said. "I think they went upstairs. They didn't even stick around for dessert, which is unusual for Miss Sophia."

"They're nervous," I guessed. "I don't blame them." I looked around quickly. "Honey, I just had a thought. Since they're not around right now, maybe it would be a good time to talk about you-know-what with the kids?"

Lena glanced up the stairs then nodded, smiling mischievously. "Now would be perfect."

The kids were watching a movie in the living room when Lena and I found them. "Hey guys," I said, sitting down. "There's something Mama and I need to talk to you about. Would you mind pausing the movie for a little while?"

Jesus groaned, but finally picked up the remote and pressed the pause button.

"Thank you," I nodded. I looked to Lena and smiled, and she took my hand in hers. "I'm just going to come right out and say it," I began. "Mama and I have decided to adopt Callie and Sophia. But before we make such a big decision that will affect the whole family, we want to know if it's okay with you kids."

Mariana, Jesus and Brandon looked to each other. There were raised eyebrows and whispers between them. I recalled the day we asked B. how he felt about us adopting the twins. I'll never forget his answer. 'Sure, there's enough to go around.' I hoped our children would feel the same way now that our home was already crowded. Even though we were short on space, I hoped the realized there would always be enough _love_ to go around. Plenty for him, the twins, _and_ Callie and Sophia.

Finally, Brandon spoke up. "I'm cool with it."

"That's great," I nodded, pleased. "I'm glad you feel that way, honey."

"I think it's good that you want to adopt him," he said. "I mean, they've had it pretty hard."

"But taking them in permanently will mean making some adjustments," I reminded him. "It would mean giving up your room. Are you willing to do that?" I looked over at Jesus. "And in your case, to continue sharing your room with your brother?"

"I guess I can take Brandon banging on his keyboard a few more years," Jesus shrugged. "I think you should go for it, moms."

"And I can take Jesus's snoring," Brandon countered, play-punching his brother in the arm. Jesus punched him back, and I gave them a sharp look.

Mariana was the only question mark left. She could be unpredictable. "How about you, Miss Thang?" Lena asked her. "How do you feel about the idea?" I held my breath, waiting for our daughter to answer.

"I guess I wouldn't mind having sisters," she finally said. Lena and I breathed a collective sigh of relief. "At least the boys will be outnumbered."

I had to laugh at that. "So it's a yes from you, honey?"

"Sure," she said. She paused for a moment, biting her lip. "How come you and Mama are adopting them so soon, though? You waited almost five years to adopt me and Jesus."

"Well," I answered. "You and Jesus were still young, honey. Callie is already sixteen, so we don't really have that kind of time with them. Otherwise, we probably would have chose to wait a little longer."

"Oh," she nodded. "That makes sense."

"And the next few weeks aren't going to be easy for the girls," said Lena. "Mom and I really thought they could use a break. Something good to look forward to down the road, so they can take their minds off their troubles for a little while. Don't you think?"

Mariana nodded again. "Yeah."

"So, it's unanimous?" I asked.

The kids answered with a resounding "Yes."

"Nobody says a word, though," I reminded them. "We'll tell them as a family later on."

"When?" Mariana wanted to know.

Lena turned to me. "Tomorrow? After their appointment?"

"That sounds good," I agreed. "We'll plan for when I get home from work."

After our family meeting broke up, I took Brandon aside. "I'm proud of you, B., I told him."

"For what?" he asked.

"For being so good about everything," I explained. "Giving up your room is a big sacrifice. You're handling it very maturely."

He reached out and gave me a hug. "Don't worry about it, mom. Really. I don't mind." He winked at me. "Hey- there's enough to go around."

* * *

**Callie**

I woke up around twelve-thirty, feeling restless and scared. I'd had a strange dream, but I could only remember bits and pieces of it. I looked over at Sophia. Our beds were pushed together again, and she was curled up in a little ball, hugging her stuffed horse. I was scared, but I didn't have the heart to wake her up. She needed her sleep. We had a big day ahead of us tomorrow.

I swallowed, and realized I was more thirsty than I was scared. Slipping out of bed, I went down to the kitchen. The light about the sink was on, and Stef was sitting at kitchen table, drinking a cup of tea. I stopped, watching her.

"Callie, honey?" She set her mug down on the table. "What are you doing up so late, slug-a-bug?"

"I couldn't sleep," I explained. "I was thirsty. And I had a bad dream." She gave me a worried look. "It was just a regular nightmare," I quickly explained,

She nodded. "I couldn't sleep either. Do you want to keep me company?"

I did. More than anything in the world. "Yes," I nodded.

"You missed dessert tonight," she said, getting up and going to the fridge. "How about a little midnight snack?"

"Okay." I got myself a glass of water, then sat down at the table. I _was_ hungry.

She took a carton of mint chip ice cream out of the freezer, and began scooping it into two bowls. "Don't tell Lena," she winked, setting one bowl in front of me and taking the other to her seat.

"I can keep a secret." I smiled. "Too soon?"

"A little," she laughed, scooping up a spoonful of ice cream. "Just a little."

I took a bite of my own ice cream. It tasted so good. I let it melt in my mouth so it would last longer. I wanted the moment to last as long as it could- I liked hanging out in the kitchen with Stef while everyone in the house was asleep. It felt cozy and warm. If only life could stay that way forever.

"What do you think about the idea of redecorating your room?" Stef asked me. "Maybe we could paint it a more feminine color, get some nice pictures to hang on the wall? You think Sophia would go for that?"

"I don't know," I said.

"I was just thinking, maybe the room is adding to your sleep troubles," she offered. "It's kind of dark and depressing in there. It might help to brighten it up."

"But it's Brandon's room," I reminded her. "Wouldn't he be mad if we changed it?"

She shook her head. "I don't know that he would. It's going to be yours and Sophia's room for the foreseeable future. And paint is easy enough to change." She took another bite of ice cream. "Would you like me to run the idea by him?"

"Okay," I nodded. "Thanks, Stef."

"It's no problem, love," she smiled. "Do you have a favorite color?"

"Blue," I told her. "I like blue."

"And Sophia?"

"Pink," I sighed.

"Not crazy about pink?" she laughed, scraping her bowl clean and licking her spoon.

"Not really," I said, shaking my head.

"Me either," she chuckled. "How about I pick up some paint chips to look over this week?"

"If we're still here..." I started to say.

She looked me in the eye. "You _will _be." The way she said it, I believed her. She was so sure."If Brian hadn't died, he would be in jail for what he did to you girls, wouldn't he?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, nodding.

"A judge would consider that," she told me. "I know that you and your sister, you know, don't have a great impression of the law. But we really are here to protect you, sweets. Not to hurt you. Okay?"

"Okay," I said.

"So I don't want you to worry. You're gonna make yourself sick."

"My mom used to say that," I smiled.

"She sounds like she was a smart lady," Stef told me.

I touched my necklace lovingly. "You remind me of her sometimes..." I ventured. Stef didn't look like her, but her voice and her mannerisms were similar.

"That's a wonderful compliment," she replied. "I know she was an amazing mom."

I looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. "How do you know that?"

"I know," she said, "because she raised two amazing girls."

"Sometimes, when people hear we're foster kids, they think my mom must have been a bad parent," I confided. I'd seen that reaction plenty of times, and it hurt me right down to the core. "But she wasn't. She was the best." I looked up at my foster mother, realizing what I'd just said. "Besides you guys, I mean."

"Aww, honey." Stef set her spoon down and reached out to rub my back. "Don't let it get to you. There are ignorant people out there. And it's not always their faults, you know? I think people judge others out of fear."

"I've done that," I said quietly, looking down into my bowl. Melted ice cream dripped down the sides. "To you." I didn't feel good about that now, but it was true.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" she asked. She didn't sound mad. She actually sounded a little amused.

"I thought you were going to be mean," I told her. "Because you're a cop. I just thought, you must be like all the other cops I've met. I thought I couldn't trust you. But I was wrong. You're so nice. You're my friend, and I'm pretty sure I _can_ trust you."

"My sweet baby," she laughed, wrapping me in a hug. She brushed her lips against my temple. "You're my friend, too. I love you, you know that?"

I rested my head on her shoulder, lightly stroking her back with my fingertips. I wanted to tell her I loved her, too. I _tried_. But when I opened my mouth, no words came out.

She gave me one last kiss, then stood up, taking our bowls to the sink and rinsing them. "Time to destroy the evidence. Then, we better try to get some sleep."

**To Be Continued**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17.

**Callie**

"Hey Soph, maybe you should wear something different today," I said the next the next morning, as we were getting dressed for school. Sophia had just put on a navy blue t-shirt.

"But I like this," she frowned. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing," I said. "It's just that today's an important day." Chewing my lip thoughtfully, I looked through her closet. I settled on the pink flowered top she'd bought on our first shopping trip. "Wear this shirt. It's pretty." I tossed it to her, and she caught it.

"I guess I could..." she said. She shed her shirt and pulled the new one over her head. The rosy color and the soft flowers brought out her pink cheeks and sparkling brown eyes. And the little bit of lace only made her look sweeter.

"And let me do your hair?" I offered, grabbing her brush.

"Okay."

I sat her in front of me and brushed out her chestnut waves. Once they were smooth and glossy down her back, I parted her hair down the middle and braided each side. I tied them off with pink elastics to match her shirt. "There you go."

She studied herself in the mirror. "I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to make look cute."

"Okay," I sighed. "I am. But it wasn't hard. You're already adorable," I added, pinching her cheek. "Look," I whispered, "I just thought that it wouldn't hurt to play up your natural cuteness for the therapist. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?" My plan had come out of nowhere, but I knew it was good. No way did Sophia look like a criminal. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

"I guess not," she said, fingering the lace on her shirt. "I _do_ like this top. But... maybe you should look cuter too?"

"Me?" I laughed.

She nodded. "Sure." She hopped up and went to the closet, producing a shirt Stef had bought me. It was dark red with panda bears printed all over it. I hadn't worn it yet. It still had the tag on it.

"Okay," I said, tearing off the tag and putting it on. I looked at my reflection. I had to admit that the shirt was perfect.

"And your hair..." she said. She took the spot behind me and started brushing my hair out. She gathered it into two pigtails.

"No way," I said, shaking my head. "Sorry."

"I was just kidding," she giggled. It was strange how relaxed and happy she seemed that morning. I wondered if that would change later on when our situation finally sunk in.

Her brushing my hair felt good, and relaxed my jangled nerves a little. She left it down and wavy, which was fine by me. "I hope I look just like you when I'm older," she told me. "You're so pretty, Callie."

"I'm not any prettier than you," I said. "We look just alike." If I was a little younger, or she was a little older, we really could pass for twins.

She put her face next to mine, and we looked in the mirror. "My nose is a little different," she decided. "And you have that little scar on your forehead."

Mariana knocked on the door frame, and we turned to her. "Mom wants you guys to come downstairs," she told us. "She wants to say goodbye to you before she goes to work."

"Okay," I said. I turned back to my sister. "You ready?"

"Yup." She slid off the bed, and we followed our foster sister to the kitchen.

"There you are, girls," Stef said when she saw us. "Come here. I want to talk to you." We stood in front of her, and she took our hands. "Listen. I have to work today, so I won't be able to be there for your appointment. But even though I can't physically be there, my heart will be with you. I'll be thinking about you all day, okay?"

"Okay," I said.

"Okay," said Sophia.

"Lena will be there," she promised us. "And I'll be here when you get home. I don't want you to worry. Everything will work out."

I hoped she was right.

"I love you." She kissed Sophia. "And I love you." She kissed me. "Good luck, my babies," she smiled. She gave each of us a tight hug, then she left for work.

* * *

**Stef**

It was mid-morning, and Mike and I were parked inconspicuously in a vacant lot, watching traffic. It was a slow day. I was telling him about Callie and Sophia, about their therapy appointment later that afternoon.

He listened politely, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Would you be willing to testify?" I asked him. "I mean, if it comes to that." I hoped it wouldn't, but there was always a chance that it would.

"I guess so," he said. "Yeah. I don't know how much good I'd do, though."

"Well," I said. "What do you remember about that night, Mike? Anything that won't incriminate the girls."

He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking over my question.

"Try to remember details," I pressed. "Any little thing could be important. Who called 911?"

He opened his eyes and rubbed his chin. "I think it was the next door neighbor," he finally said. "I kinda remember that. They called because they heard screaming and a gunshot."

"Screaming and _then_ a gunshot?" I asked, my heart fluttering with hope.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I guess so."

"That's good," I said. That there was screaming _before _the shot was fired implied that there was a struggle happening beforehand. I wondered if the neighbor who called was still around, and if he or she would have any worthwhile information. I made a mental note that that was something to look into.

"Anything else?" I asked Mike. "How did the girls look?"

"Shocked," he stated. "They looked like they were in shock. The older one had blood all over her. They were huddled in the corner, clinging to each other, crying. The little girl was still holding the gun. She wouldn't talk to no one. All she'd say was, 'I killed him, I killed him'."

"Do you remember any beat marks on Callie?" I persisted.

He pursed his lips. "There might have been. I was just called in for back-up. We were mainly focused on the foster father, Stef. I don't remember every detail."

"Oh." I frowned with disappointment.

"Stef, are you sure you should be getting so invested in these kids?" he asked me.

"Yes, I am," I told him. "I'm positive that I should, because Lena and I are planning to adopt them."

"You are?" he asked, obviously surprised.

"Yes," I said. "They've become very special to us. We love them very much."

He shrugged. "It's just... something about that night never felt _right _to me. I got the feeling those girls were lying about something. But hey, it's your life."

"Well, there's a lot to the story that you don't know," I told him, torn between defending my girls and protecting their secrets. I finally settled on telling him the truth; we told each other pretty much everything, anyway. In fact, we communicated better _now _than we did when we were married. "You're instincts were right," I began. "The girls _were_ hiding something. And what happened wasn't an accident."

I told him the whole story about the night Brian was shot, and when I was finished, he whistled and shook his head. "Wow."

"I know."

"Why didn't they say something then?" he asked. "Someone could have helped them."

"They were just scared," I said. "Sophia only shot the guy to stop him from hurting her big sister. They were afraid she would be taken away and they'd be separated. They don't deserve to be punished for what they did."

He nodded solemnly. "You know, maybe I do remember something else."

"What?" I asked. "What is it?"

"Their phone _was_ broken," he said. "The wires pulled a big chunk out of the wall, and the plaster was on the floor."

I smiled with satisfaction. Just then, a car sped past us. Mike turned the lights on our cruiser. "Finally. Some action."

* * *

**Callie**

After school, Sophia and I met Lena, and she took us to our appointment. "Take a seat, girls," she said. "I'll check you in."

"Okay," I said. I turned to my sister. "Come on. Let's sit over there." We went to some blue chairs on the other side of the waiting room. I sat down, and Sophia sat next to me, snuggling into my side.

I put my arms around her, and stroked her back. I could tell she was nervous. So nervous. Her face was pale and her hands were shaking. I felt like I had rocks in my stomach, myself. "You know," I whispered, "it's not too late to change your mind."

She glanced up at me and shook her head. "No. We have to do this."

I nodded a little, then untangled myself from her. I reached behind my neck and unclasped my necklace. "Do you want to borrow this?"

She gave me a surprised look. "Really?"

"Really. It'll make you braver." I draped it around her neck and clasped it, then straightened the pendant.

Sophia touched the gold coin and smiled proudly. "Thanks, sissy."

"You have to give it back, though," I reminded her, feeling a little naked without it. When our mom died, the morgue sent us an envelope of her belongings. There wasn't much, but the necklace was in it. I put it on, and I've hardly taken it off since. Sophia had mom's lipstick. She kept it in her treasure box. Those two things were all we had left of her.

"I know," she said, leaning back against me, still holding the coin.

"All set, girls," Lena said, coming over to us. Sophia shrank against me even tighter.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" our foster mom asked, looking down at my sister. "Are you feeling a little nervous?"

Sophia nodded sullenly, and Lena gently massaged her back. "I don't want you to worry, baby. Neither of you. I'm going into your appointment with you. I won't leave you alone for a minute."

Sophia looked up. "Promise?"

"I promise," she said.

I jumped when the waiting room door opened. A small, Asian woman called our names. She was smiling, which I took as a good sign. "Right here," said Lena, standing up. She looked back at us. "You ready?"

I stood up; my feet felt like lead, and I fidgeted between us, looking for Sophia's hand. When I found it, I squeezed it to comfort her. And then we followed Lena to the door together.

"It's nice to meet you, girls," said the therapist. "I'm Dr. Kodema."

"Hi," I mumbled.

"Come on back to my office," she said, "and we'll get to know each other."

Her office was neat as a pin, but above the desk were lots of pictures kids had colored for her. We sat down on an overstuffed couch. I jiggled my leg with nervous energy. Finally, Lena put her hand over my knee to keep me still.

For the first twenty minutes, nothing happened. Dr. Kodema asked us about our medical history, any medications we took, and assessed our risk for suicide. I began to relax a little.

"Whatever you say in here will be kept confidential," she told us. "That means that I will not tell anyone what we talk about in here, unless I believe you're in some kind of danger, or might hurt yourself or others. Do you have any questions?"

We shook our heads. We'd been through the same song and dance with the therapist at the children's home.

"Your foster mother tells me you girls have been in foster care for a while," the woman went on. "And that you've had some hard times recently. Do you want to tell me about it?"

Sophia glanced up at me frantically. But luckily, Lena spoke first. "These girls have been through a horrible ordeal," she explained. "It's been hard for them to talk about it with anyone."

"I understand," said Dr. Kodema. Her voice was calm and sympathetic. "I'm listening."

* * *

After our appointment, I went straight to our room. Our story was out, and my stomach hurt. I flopped on my bed and stared at the wall, wondering when the authorities would come for us.

"Callie?"

I sighed and looked back. Stef was standing there. "Hi, baby," she said.

"Hi," I nodded.

"How was your appointment?" she asked me. "Did you like Dr. Kodema?"

"She was okay," I replied.

"Honey, I know you probably want to be alone right now," she told me. "But could you please come downstairs?"

I sucked in my breath, panicked. "Why?" I asked suspiciously.

"We're going to be having a family meeting," she explained. "And we can't have it without you."

"Oh. Okay," I said, rolling out of bed.

Stef guided me to the couch, next to my sister, and then she sat down next to Lena. Brandon and the twins were sitting there too, and nobody was arguing or joking around. What was going on? I prepared myself for bad news.

"Callie, Sophia," said Lena. "We wanted to ask you something. You've been living with us for some time now, and we were wondering how you would feel about making things more permanent."

"You mean... you want to adopt us?" Sophia asked, perking up.

Stef nodded, grinning. "We love you both very much. You've become part of this family. You deserve a home, and we want it to be ours. What do you say to officially becoming our daughters?"

Sophia shot up off the couch and jumped up and down. "I knew it! I knew it!"

"I'll take that as a yes," Lena laughed, hugging her.

"How about you, love?" Stef asked, moving over to the couch to sit next to me.

"I- I don't know what to say," I stammered. I just couldn't believe it. It didn't feel real.

"Say yes," she said, planting a kiss on the side of my head.

I looked up at my sister, who was in tears, and then at the other kids. "Is it okay with you guys?"

"Yes," they nodded.

I looked back to Stef and smiled. "Then... yes."

"Yay!" she cried. "They said yes!" She and Lena grabbed Sophia and I up in a sort of group hug. And even though it had been a hard day, I couldn't help but feel happy.

As we were being bombarded by hugs and kisses, Sophia whispered to me, "I knew my wish would come true."

**To Be Continued**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18.

**Callie**

"Try that chord again," said Brandon. "You almost had it. Loosen your fingers jusssst a little." He carefully readjusted my fingers, just slightly, against the guitar strings. "That's better." He'd had the idea after dinner to give me guitar lessons, and I was really enjoying myself. Playing the guitar brought back memories of my mother. Not sad, bittersweet ones, but happy ones. Things I wanted to remember.

"Okay." I imitated what he'd showed me, and it sounded almost right.

"That was great," he said, breaking out in a grin. "You're doing awesome, Cal."

"I didn't do it right," I sighed, frustrated. "I can't remember anything."

"Keep practicing," he encouraged. "You're just a little rusty." He took the guitar back and showed me another chord. "This one's a little easier. Give it a try."

Lena looked over at us from the kitchen table, where she was helping my sister with her math homework. "Guys, could you please take your lesson to another room?" she asked. "We really need to get these worksheets done."

Brandon turned to me and shrugged. "Okay. You want to go out to the garage?"

"Actually," I said, setting the guitar down carefully, "maybe we can pick this up tomorrow? I kind of want to go to bed early tonight." It had been a long day, and I kind of wanted to talk to Mariana. She's gone upstairs early, too. I wanted to catch her before she went to sleep.

"Sure," he nodded. "It's cool." He stood up and headed out to the garage by himself, and I wandered up the stairs. I stood outside Mariana's door and knocked.

"Yeah?" she called.

"It's Callie," I answered. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," she called back. "Door's open."

I went inside, and saw my foster sister sitting at her computer. Just before she minimized the window, I could see that she was chatting with someone named Ana. She was talking to her birth mom."How's that going?" I asked, pointing to the screen.

She blushed a little. "It's going fine."

Something about the situation still made me feel strange inside, like it had when I first found out Mariana was communicating with Ana, but I could tell she didn't want to talk about it with me, and I didn't want to step on her toes again now that we were getting along better.

"You can sit down," she said, eager to change the subject.

"Thanks." I took a seat on the bed, and she pushed her chair over closer.

"So, what's up?" she asked.

"I just wanted to ask you about something." I shuffled around a little, unsure of where to start. ""When Lena was talking to me the other day about why I should go to therapy, she mentioned that you saw one when you were younger, because you had panic attacks."

Mariana's brow creased. "She told you that?"

"Yeah," I nodded. Maybe mentioning it wasn't such a good idea. "She was just trying to make me feel better," I said. "I have them too."

"Oh," she nodded. She looked down into her lap, not speaking. "I don't think about those days too much anymore," she finally told me. "Why? What do you want to know?"

"Like, did it really help?" I asked her. "I don't want to feel this way anymore."

"I think it did," she told me. "I mean, it's probably different for you. I was just a little kid. But I think, you have to make it work for you, you know? It's not an instant fix, and you have to really accept the help. It's one of those things where you only get out what you put in, I guess."

"Oh," I said. "Thanks." Her advice made sense. I hadn't done much but show up to my sessions with the counselor at the group home, and it obviously didn't help me. I just wasn't the most open person when it came to sharing my feelings. Especially with a stranger who wrote down everything I said.

"Don't worry," she smiled. "It's not the end of the world. It gets better."

"I hope so," I said.

"Is there anything else you want to know?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I think I'm good for now. Thanks, Mariana."

"No problem," she said, turning back to her computer.

I stood up. "I'm gonna head to bed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she called back.

* * *

I walked down the hall to my room, yawning. But when I opened my dresser drawer, I discovered I didn't have anything to wear to bed. My (really, Stef's) pajamas were in the laundry. I shut the drawer and went to her room to see if she would lend me something.

The door was open, and I could see her inside, so I poked my head in. "Stef?" I crossed the threshold, then stopped in my tracks.

Stef was crying. Sobbing, actually.

"I'm sorry," I stammered, reaching behind me fore the doorknob. "I should have knocked." I started to turn away.

She held her hand up to stop me. "Wait, honey. You're okay." She patted the bed. "Come here. Sit with me."

I crossed the room, feeling a little uncomfortable, like I'd interrupted her in a deeply personal moment. I'd seen her cry before, but it still felt weird. "Are you okay?" I asked, sitting down. I searched her face carefully, without being too obvious. Her green eyes were red-rimmed, and her cheeks were tear-stained.

"I'm fine," she laughed, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand and drying her eyes.

"Why were you crying?"

"Oh, I think today just got to me," she said, putting her arm around me and rubbing my back. "I've been thinking a lot about you and your sister."

"What about us?" I wanted to know. In the back of my mind, I felt that familiar pang of fear that everything wasn't going to be alright. I felt as if I were always holding my breath. I wondered if I'd ever be able to let it out.

"Oh, you know," she said, still kneading my shoulder. "All you've been through. How much I love you." She smiled, and fresh tears filled her eyes. "How happy I am that you're going to be my daughters."

I felt like I had to _do _something. It was sort of embarrassing, seeing her get so emotional like that. But it dawned on me that she wanted me near her. She wouldn't have asked me in if she didn't. Maybe, the right thing to do was to comfort her? After all, she always comforted me.

Cautiously, I placed my hand on her shoulder, waiting to see how she'd react. "I- I'm really happy that you're adopting us," I said.

She didn't push me away. She smiled through her tears, and cupped her hand over mine. Feeling much braver, I pulled my hand away and laid my head against her, wrapping my arms around her waist.

"Thanks, slug-a-bug," she said. She kissed the side of my head. "I needed that."

I held her for several minutes. We didn't speak. It was one of those times when you didn't need to.

When I finally pulled away, I looked up at her. "Um, I kind of came in for something," I told her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I don't have any clean pajamas," I explained. "I was wondering if, maybe, you had something I could wear?"

"Of course, love," she nodded. "Sit tight, and I'll grab you something." She went to her dresser and took out pajama shorts and a faded Padres t-shirt. "Will this work?"

"Yeah, it's fine," I nodded. "Thanks."

"We'll have to go pajama shopping soon," she smiled. "Hey! Why don't you change in our bathroom, then come back in here for a while. I could use a snuggle from my girl."

"Sure," I said happily. I was someone's girl again.

* * *

**Stef**

Callie came back into the room dressed in the pajamas I'd given her, and tentatively climbed up on the bed and beside me. I took her in my arms and kissed her. "There you are."

"Hey, I'm sorry for walking in on you earlier," she apologized. "I didn't know you were... you know."

"Crying?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Don't worry about it, honey," I said. "I'm not mad or anything."

"I feel embarrassed when I cry," she told me, blushing. "It makes me feel weak."

"I feel the same way sometimes," I confided. "But you know what? It's okay to cry. It really is. It not always comfortable to wear your heart on your sleeve, but sometimes, you just have to, and there's not shame in it."

"I wish I'd been called to the scene that night," I told her quietly. What Mike described to me had hit me hard, as a mother. All I could see when I closed my eyes were my babies, alone and broken, with no one to tell them it was going to be okay. They needed a mama that night.

"You mean the night of the shooting?" she asked, rolling her brown eyes up to look at me.

I nodded, pulling her a little closer. "If I'd been there, I would've cuddled you and talked to you," I said, brushing my hand over her hair. "Heck," I laughed. "I would have brought you home with me then and there."

"That would've been nice," Callie said, closing her eyes for a moment, her angelic face becoming peaceful.

"Obviously, I can't change what's already happened," I told her. "I wish I could take all your pain away, but I can't. All I can do is promise you that no one will ever hurt you like that again."

She nodded, her eyes still closed.

"How are you holding up, baby?" I asked her. "I know today was rough on you too."

"I guess I'm okay for now," she answered. "I mean, it's out of my hands."

"You haven't had any night terrors in a while," I realized. "That's pretty good."

Her eyes fluttered open. "Well, I haven't really been sleeping much," she said. "But I'm tired tonight."

"Then go ahead and close your eyes," I whispered. "It's okay."

She did, and within minutes, she was sound asleep in my arms. Careful not to disturb her, I brushed my lips against her cheek. "I love you."

* * *

**Lena  
**

The next day, after school, Stef and I took Callie and Sophia out to buy things for their room- just the four of us. We watched them look over paint chip after paint chip, trying to decide which color to choose. Sophia wanted pink, her favorite color, and Callie wanted aqua. Finally, they compromised, and settled on periwinkle, a soft blue with a hint of purple. Even Stef agreed that it was beautiful. We hoped that being surrounded by such a peaceful color would help them relax at night.

On the way home, Stef told the girls the news we'd been sitting on all day. "So, I called Bill this morning, and told him what we want to do," she smiled, looking back at them in the mirror. "About adopting you."

"You did?" Callie asked, her eyes widening. "What did he say?"

"He was very happy," she said. "So, we're gonna get the paperwork started right away."

"How long will it take?" Sophia asked her, bouncing in her seat a little.

"A few months?" I guessed. "I know that seems like a long time, but I promise, it'll fly by."

"This is so great," said Sophia, smiling from ear to ear. "First we had no moms, and now we're gonna have two."

"And we're gonna have two more beautiful daughters," said Stef, with a wink. "How did we get so lucky, mama?"

"I don't know," I answered, just as we pulled onto our street.

When we reached our driveway, we saw an unfamiliar car, and a man and woman who looked like they might be social workers standing on the front porch, talking to Mariana and Brandon.

"What's going on?" Stef asked no one in particular, as she parked the car.

We got out and hurried to the porch, though it felt like we were moving in slow motion. "Can we help you?" I asked.

"Yes," said the man, flashing a badge. "We have some questions for Callie and Sophia Jacob."

Sophia whimpered and shrunk against me. I wrapped my arms around her protectively.

"You let mama and I do the talking, okay?" Stef whispered to Callie, taking her hand and squeezing it. "It'll be alright."

**To Be Continued**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19.

**Stef**

I parked my cruiser on the curb of an unfamiliar street and got out. As I walked down the sidewalk, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a small, shabby house. It was locked up tight, the yard overgrown. I shuddered. So, this was Brian's house of horrors.

I passed it, and went up the front walk of the house next door. It hadn't been hard to get a hold of the transcript of the 911 call from the night of the shooting. From it, I learned the name and address of the neighbor who called.

Purposefully, I rang her doorbell, praying she was home. After Callie and Sophia had been questioned the day before, I'd made it a point to get out here and see if there was at least one more viable witness.

Finally, the door opened a crack. "May I help you?" a woman asked, peeking out.

"I hope so," I smiled. "My name is Officer Stefanie Adams Foster. Are you... Tracy Gonzalez?"

"Yes," she said, frowning. "Why?"

"I'd like to ask you some questions," I told her. "May I please come in?"

"Of course, officer," she nodded. She shut the door, then undid the chain lock and opened it again. Pushing a cat away with her foot, she gestured for me to enter.

Her home was drab, but clean. You could tell she tried to keep it nice, despite her bleak surroundings. This was a rough neighborhood.

"Have a seat," she said. "Can I offer you something?"

"Coffee would be lovely if you have it," I smiled.

"I just made a fresh pot," she told me, turning to the kitchen. A few moments later, she returned, handed me a mug, and sat down across from me.

"Is there a problem?" she asked. There was a trace of fear in her eyes.

"No," I said quietly, hoping to calm her nerves. "I'm just hoping you could give me some information regarding the death of Brian Bowen. He lived next door to you?"

"Him," Mrs. Gonzalez grunted. "Yes." From what I could gather, Brian wasn't well-liked by her. I guessed a lot of people shared her feelings.

"My wife and I are fostering two sisters," I explained. "You may remember them. Their names are Callie and Sophia Jacob. Before they came to us, they were Mr. Bowen's foster daughters. Do you recall them at all?" I asked, hopefully. "I really need your help, and I know you called 911 the night Mr. Bowen was shot."

I told her about the girls, and what a hard time they've had, and the investigation they were under. Lastly, I told her about Lena's and my intention to adopt them. "We love them so much," I said, my eyes tearing up. "And we want to give them a safe, loving home. But to do that, we need to clear their names."

"I'll help you in any way I can," she finally promised. "I remember those girls."

"I'd love to hear what you remember," I offered, very interested in learning about what my daughters were like before their life became so dark.

"They seemed like normal, bright kids," Mrs. Gonzalez told me. "They always had a sad look in their eyes. But they were pretty girls."

"They are," I smiled. "They really are."

"I didn't see them too often," she went on. "They didn't seem to come outside much, but I saw them out in the yard once in a while. I can only remember actually speaking to them once. It was raining, and I saw them sitting on their front steps. I asked them what they were doing outside in weather like that, and they said they were waiting for Laura to come home. I asked them to come inside and dry off while they waited."

"Who's Laura?" I asked her.

"She was Brian's wife," she replied.

"Oh. Did they come in?" I asked, fascinated.

She nodded. "They did. I thought it was odd that they were waiting outside, because Brian's truck was in the driveway, but I didn't ask. I gave them towels to dry off and fixed them a plate of cookies. They didn't talk. They just sat quietly, but the younger one seemed to like my cat."

I smiled, making some quick notes. "What was Brian like as a person?" I asked.

"Brian... was a piece of work," she finally said. "He was lazy, had a nasty temper. I don't know what ever possessed him to become a foster parent, but I imagine it had a lot to do with the check the children came with. He couldn't seem to keep a job, and there was nothing fatherly about him."

I was so absorbed in Mrs. Gonzalez's testimony, I felt as if I were in a trance. "What about Laura?" I asked. "Can you tell me anything about her?" She was one of the biggest question marks in this mystery. Callie and Sophia barely talked about her, and I had the impression she wasn't in their lives for very long. Most of all, I wondered how she could leave those two precious, beautiful girls behind when she left, knowing what her husband was. If it had been me in her situation, I would have taken those babies and ran, even if I had to sneak them out in the middle of the night. But then, I didn't know the details. Maybe soon, I would.

"Laura was nice enough," Mrs. Gonzalez said. "Timid, kind of private. She brought muffins over when my husband passed away. She had a drinking problem, but I can't say I blame her."

"Do you know if Brian ever physically abused her?"

She shrugged. "I've never seen him hit her, but it wouldn't surprise me. I did hear them fighting a lot, and Laura had that sort of secretive personality, you know? Like she was hiding something?"

I nodded. I _did _know. I'd seen a lot of domestic violence cases.

"I seem to remember the police coming to the house a few times. I tried not to get involved though, living alone, in this neighborhood. Brian had a short fuse. He was someone who's bad side you didn't want to get on." Mrs. Gonzalez shook her head ruefully. "When I heard the gunshot that night, the first thing that came to mind was that Laura came back and he killed her. Or, heaven forbid, one of those girls."

Finally, we were getting to that night. I leaned in, ready to listen intently. "Did you go check on them after you heard the gunshot?"

"No," she said. "The 911 dispatcher told me to stay inside and lock my doors."

I nodded again. "I see." I cleared my throat. "Mrs. Gonzalez, would you be willing to testify on behalf of Callie and Sophia? Perhaps as a character witness? What you told me could really help them."

"Yes," she agreed. "I'd be glad to testify. I feel so bad that I didn't do more, now. If I'd known they were in danger..." her voice trailed off. "I'll do what I can to help, officer. But if you want a better witness, I'd find Laura. Or their daughter."

I almost dropped my coffee mug. "Brian and Laura had a daughter?"

"I believe so," she told me. "She's grown. I think there was some kind of falling out?"

"Do you know her name?" I asked, the wheels in my head already turning.

She shook her head. "No, I don't. I'm so sorry."

"That's fine," I said. "You've helped me so much. I don't know how I can thank you."

"There's no need to thank me," she replied. "Tell the girls I said hi?"

"I will," I smiled. "Thank you. I'll be in touch."

"Bye," she said, walking me to the door. "Take care."

"Bye," I waved. I stepped off Mrs. Gonzalez's porch, feeling good. I had a lead that could solve everything. And Laura Bowen and her mysterious daughter were the key.

On my way to the cruiser, I stopped once again to look at the empty Bowen house. I was tempted to take a closer look, and finally, I gave in. I crossed the front yard, trying to be inconspicuous about it. The windows were shrouded by dark drapes, and a No Trespassing sign was nailed to the front door. Ignoring it, I walked around the perimeter of the house. Unfortunately, I found nothing that could help me in any way. Just a deflated soccer ball laying in the back yard. I wondered if it belonged to Callie or Sophia.

Disappointed, I headed back to the front of the house. But before I finally got back into my car, on a whim, I decided to take a look in Brian's mailbox. I knew I couldn't actually _open_ his mail. I played by my own rules, sure, but I wasn't about to commit a federal offense. I was thinking maybe I'd find an address that would lead me to Laura or something.

There was no mail in the box, though. However, way in the back was a folded piece of notebook paper. I reached in and took it out. It had gotten wet at some point, and the ink had run, but I still managed to read it. It was a handwritten note:

_Callie,_

_Today at school, I heard that you had to leave, and I couldn't believe it. I tried calling your house, I even asked the guidance counselor where you went, but I don't know where to find you. I'm not mad at you, Cal. I know you couldn't help it, so don't worry about that. I just want to know that you're okay, and that you haven't forgotten about me._

_I know it's a long-shot, but maybe you left something here or something, and you'll come back for it? If you do, and you find this note, please call me. I miss you, and I want to know what happened to you. I keep thinking about the last time I saw you, the night we met at the park, and how it felt to kiss you. I didn't know it would be the last time I ever saw you.  
_

_Wherever you are, I hope you're happy. I'll never forget the prettiest girl in school._

_Love,_

_Ben_

Below his name, he'd listed his cell phone number. I refolded the note, knowing I'd read something deeply personal. The writer of the note was _Ben_, the boy Callie had sneaked out to see _that_ _night_. The boy she loved. Holding it, it made what happened all the more real. Silently, I stuck it in my pocket, then headed home.

* * *

"Hey, baby," I said, coming in the door and giving Lena a kiss.

"Hey," she smiled. She studied my face carefully. "What have you been up to?"

"What makes you think I've been up to something?" I asked, sitting down on the sofa, and giving her an innocent look.

She laughed, joining me. "Honey, I know you better than you know yourself. What's up?"

Giving in, I kicked my shoes off and sat back, putting my arm around Lena. "I went to Callie and Sophia's old neighborhood today. I paid a little visit to the woman who called 911 the night Brian was shot."

"You did?" Lena asked. "Honey... I don't know how I feel about you interfering."

"It was worth it," I assured her. "She gave me some good stuff, kind of painted a picture of the family for me."

"Was it as bad as we thought?" she wondered.

I nodded. "It's sad, but whatever we learn can old help us."

"Our poor babies," my wife sighed.

"But that's not all," I said. "I found a lead that could change everything."

"What is it?" she asked, interested.

"Not only did I find out the name of Brian's wife," I revealed, "but I learned that they have a grown daughter somewhere. I don't know her name, but I have a good feeling about this." I paused. "Mrs Gonzalez told me that there was a falling out between the daughter and her parents, and I have a theory about it. I'm willing to bet that Brian abused his own daughter too, and mommy didn't protect her, just like she didn't protect Callie and Sophia."

Lena was quiet for a moment, thoughtful. "You could be right. Hmm... I wonder if Callie would know the daughter's name? Maybe someone mentioned it at some point while they were living there?"

"That's what I'm hoping for," I said. "I need to talk to Callie anyway." I took the note out of my pocket. "I found this in her old mailbox."

Reading the note, Lena frowned sadly, just as Callie came down the stairs.

"Hi honey," I said. "We were just talking about you."

She blanched, her eyes wide. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, not at all," I reassured her. "We just need to talk to you about something. Come here and sit between us. It's time for a mama sandwich."

"A what?" she asked, raising her eyebrow as she came to sit down.

"Mama sandwich," I repeated. "It's something Mariana made up when she was little. See? We're the bread, and you're sandwiched in between us."

She nodded. "Oh."

"Sweetheart?" I asked. "Tell me something. Do you remember Brian and his wife having a daughter who was older than you?"

Her mouth opened a little, but she was silent. "I don't know."

"Are you sure...?"

"Yeah, I guess they might have. But I never met her."

"Do you know her name by any chance?" I ventured. "Or maybe where she lives?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Well, could you do me a favor and think about it, love? Think really hard, because if we can find this daughter, she might be able to help you and your sister."

"I'll try," she promised.

"Oh, and one more thing," I added. "I was in your old neighborhood today, and I found something in the mailbox at Brian's house." I gave her the note. "Someone has been really worried about you."

She unfolded the paper and read it, her hands shaking a little. "Thanks."

"Are you gonna call him, honey?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so." She stood up. "I, uh, need some air." She hurried out the front door an through the window, I saw her sit on the porch swing.

"Let me take this one," Lena offered, getting up to follow her.

* * *

**Lena**

I went to the porch swing and sat down beside Callie. She was still holding the note, and her eyes were filled with tears. Stroking her hair, I pulled her closer. "What's wrong, sweets?"

"Nothing," she said. "I just don't want to call him. That's all. He was part of my old life. It's time to move on."

"But do you really think it's fair to him to leave him wondering what happened to you?" I asked her. "It sounds like you were very special to him. He was your boyfriend, wasn't he?"

She sighed. "I've kind of sworn off boys after what happened." She hugged herself, moving a little bit closer to me. "And anyway..."

"Anyway, what?" I gently pushed.

"Nothing," she said quietly. "Just... he probably doesn't care about me anymore, so why bother?"

"You're right," I said. "Sometimes there's no point in digging up the past. It just causes heartache. But sometimes, it's the right thing to do, for yourself, and the other person. You might both need closure, and the only way to get that is to revisit the past."

"I don't want him to know," she mumbled, so softly I barely made out what she'd said.

"What don't you want him to know?" I asked.

"That I was being abused," she finally said. "I never told him. I never... invited him to my house, or let him know that anything was going on. I was too embarrassed. I still am."

"Oh, baby," I breathed, burying my nose in her hair.

"I know I shouldn't feel guilty about it, but I do. It's humiliating, and if he found out..."

"Do you think Ben would make fun of you for being abused?" I asked her. I was met with an unsure look. "I'm serious. Do you think the boy who wrote that sweet note would make fun of you for something you couldn't help?"

"No," she shrugged. "I guess not."

"I think he'd probably feel sad if he knew," I told her. "Maybe he'd feel bad that he didn't know, and wonder what he could have done differently. But I don't think he'd judge you for it. No decent person would."

"How do you know?" she asked me.

"I don't know," I said. "I'm just guessing. And you don't even have to tell him about the abuse if you don't want to. But writing that note was quite a leap of faith. He wrote down his feelings, and put them out in the world, not knowing if they would ever reach you. Maybe you need to take a little leap of faith yourself?"

"I did like him..." she ventured. "A lot. But what if he doesn't like me anymore?"

"He may have moved on," I said, knowing that was a possibility. "And he may not have. Either way, at least he'll know that you're okay, and that you haven't forgotten him. I think he deserved that much. Don't you?"

"Yeah," she said. She turned from me and looked toward the sky. "I'll call him."

"Okay," I nodded. "I'll bring you the phone."

**To Be Continued**


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20. (warning- this chapter contains some coarse language and descriptions of abuse)

**Callie**

"That must be him," I said, as the doorbell rang. I'd called Ben the day before, and he agreed to come over the next day. And now, here he was.

"Isn't anyone going to answer?" Mariana asked. She groaned dramatically. "I see I'm gonna have to get it." She went to the door and opened it. Her eyes widened. Ben was still cute, athletic and dark-haired, with lightly tanned skin. When we went to school together, I had a hard time believing a guy like him could truly take an interest in me. But he did. We'd been paired for a science project, and from there, we became a couple. He was one of the only people who talked to me at my last school. I've always had a hard time making friends.

"I'm Mariana," Mariana smiled, flashing him a flirty grin. "You must be Ben." She jutted her hand out to shake his. He shook it politely, smiling back, then looked over her shoulder.

"Callie?"

"Hi," I said, blushing, giving a slight wave. "Come on in." I quickly introduced him to the family. "You already know Sophia. These are my foster moms, Stef and Lena, and their kids, Brandon, Jesus, and Mariana."

"Hey," he said, nodding. "It's great to meet you."

"You too, Ben," said Lena. "Any friend of Callie's is a friend of ours."

"Can we offer you something to drink?" Stef asked him. "How about some iced tea?"

"Sure," he nodded. "That sounds great. Thanks."

Stef winked at me, then went to the kitchen. When she returned with drinks, Ben and I took our glasses and wandered onto the porch. We sat down on the swing, sipping our drinks and rocking back and forth slowly. The chains creaked as the swing went back and forth.

"I'm really glad you came," I said quietly.

"Me too," he nodded. "I can't believe you found my note."

"Actually, Stef did," I told him. "But still, it's pretty cool."

He turned to me slightly, gripping his glass in both hands. "So they treat you okay? Your foster family?"

"Yeah," I nodded, without bothering to hide my smile. "This is definitely the best foster home we've ever had. Stef and Lena are so nice, and Stef is like my best friend." I paused. "I don't want to jinx it, but they're going to adopt us."

"That's awesome," he said. He drained his glass, then set it on the porch. "You seem much happier now than you were before." He gave me a searching look. "Callie, what happened in your last home? I mean, I know bits and pieces..."

"What do you know?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "That your foster dad was shot in the chest and died. The night we sneaked out."

I traced my initials on the condensation on my glass, nervously, before setting it down. "I'm not really allowed to talk about what happened right now." Stef had advised us not to talk to anyone about the case, unless their lawyer was present.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

I shook my head. "There's some things going on. Legal things. Please, just trust me on this."

"Okay," he finally nodded. "I get it. I've just... been worried. That last week you were around, I kind of sensed you pulling away. Then that night, everything seemed good between us. Then, the next day, you disappeared."

I sucked in my breath, my chest tight with nerves. He was right about me pulling away. That last week, things at home had come to a head. Brian was getting drunk every day, taking every little thing out on me and my sister. It was all I could do to take care of Sophia and myself, let alone worry about my love life.

"Look," I said, deciding to come clean. "You deserve an explanation..." I stopped, closing my eyes for a moment. When I opened them again, I forced myself to look him in the eye. "Our foster dad was really mean. He... he hurt me and Sophia." My eyes burned. "We were being abused." I looked away, feeling ashamed, even though I knew in my heart that is wasn't my fault.

Ben reached over and took my hand, and I turned back to him. "I guess I kind of knew something was going on," he told me.

"You did?" I furrowed my brow. "How?"

"Just, little things. The way you acted sometimes, how you always had mysterious bruises, how you never had a real lunch. You always said you were on a diet, even though you were already skinny. I thought you had an eating disorder, to tell you the truth."

"Really?" I asked, surprised.

He nodded. "Why didn't you tell me what was going on, Callie? Maybe I could have helped you?"

I picked at a loose thread on my shorts. "It was humiliating, what was happening. Brian made me feel like... nothing. I thought you wouldn't want to be with me if you knew the truth. If you knew I wasn't perfect."

Ben looked down into his lap. "I would've still liked you, Cal. I thought you knew me better than that."

"No, I _do_," I promised. "It's just... I guess, when someone is always beating you down and telling you you're worthless, it's hard to believe you're worth _anything_. To anyone." I watched him, chewing my lip. "I'm sorry, Ben. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay," he said. "I'm not mad or anything, now that I know the truth. I'm just glad you were honest with me. And what happened wasn't your fault, you know. It was the people around you's fault."

"What do you mean?"

"It was your foster dad's fault, of course. But also the teachers, the guidance counselor, your social worker. Even me..." he said. "If someone spoke up when they noticed something was off, maybe you would have been safe? But no one did. Everyone ignored it."

"I never thought about it that way," I said quietly.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Cal," he apologized. "You didn't deserve all that crap. You're awesome. And beautiful, and nice, and smart. You deserved better. And it looks like you got it now, right? The Fosters seem like a really nice family."

"They are nice," I nodded. "They're great."

I didn't even see it coming, but while I was lost in thought, Ben leaned in and kissed me, softly. I started to kiss him back, but then pulled away. I was confused. I still liked Ben. He still liked me. And normally, that would have been great. But there was just so much I had to sort out. My mind was already full to bursting, and I didn't know if I could handle any more, between the investigation, our adoption, and other things, like my panic attacks and night terrors. The prospect of a romantic relationship freaked me out when added to everything else.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, blushing. "I shouldn't have done that."

"It's okay," I told him. "I promise it's not you. I still really like you, and you've gotten me through so many hard times. But I just have so much going on right now, and it's all kind of scary. I don't know if I need a boyfriend right now. I'm so sorry."

His face was unreadable. But then he looked back up at me. "Well, what about a friend?"

"I like that," I smiled, holding my hand out for him to take. "Friends."

* * *

The next day, Stef and Lena decided we needed a distraction, all of us. So, we began working on Sophia's and my room, moving things out, putting painter's tape around the woodwork, and dipping into primer and covering Brandon's green walls.

At bedtime, we realized there was no way we'd be able to sleep in our room that night. "Do you girls mind camping out in the living room?" Lena asked us.

"No," said Sophia.

"No," I said, a panicky feeling rising in my chest.

I'll get some extra pillows and blankets and we'll fix up the couch," Stef smiled.

We said goodnight to Lena, then followed Stef downstairs to the living room.

"Goodnight, princess," Stef said to Sophia, once the couches were made. She hugged and kissed her. "Sweet dreams. I love you."

"I love you too," said Sophia. She pressed a shy kiss to Stef's cheek and our foster mom tucked her in.

Stef tilted her head, watching me quietly. "You okay, babe?" she asked. "You looked worried about something." She sat down next to me and rubbed my back.

I was thinking about the restless nights I'd spent on this couch before; especially the night of Sophia's sleepover. "I'm okay," I said. "It's just that... I don't know. I'm worried that sleeping in a different place will make my night terrors come back. I haven't had one in a while. I don't want to start again." I was finally getting used to this house, my bed, and all the night sounds- the bathroom faucet dripping, Brandon pacing the floors while he worked on his music, the muffled sounds of Stef and Lena talking when they thought we were all asleep. It was all comfortable and familiar to me now. What if even the slightest upheaval messed that up?

Stef gave me a mothering look, and she enfolded me in her arms. "I don't want you to worry, baby," she said. "Mama and I are right upstairs. I'll check on you a few times during the night, too. Okay?"

"Okay," I said. I wished I could ask her to stay with me until I fell asleep, but I was too proud and too shy.

"I love you, slug-a-bug," she said. She kissed me, then tucked me in. "Call us if you need _anything_. Mama and I won't be mad if you wake us up. Don't even worry about that." She turned to my sister. "That goes for you too, baby doll."

"We will," Sophia told her.

"Goodnight, my loves." She blew us a kiss, then turned off the lamp and disappeared upstairs.

* * *

_I set my history book down and sighed in frustration. I could hear Brian in the living room, screaming and yelling at no one. He was drunk. I flinched when I heard a beer bottle hit the wall and break. Sophia winced in her bed, pulling the covers around herself tighter. We both knew it was best to just remove ourselves when our foster dad was like this, shutting ourselves in our room and not making a sound._

_"It's okay, Sophie Bug," I said softly._

_"I'm scared," she sniffled. We heard more glass break._

_How was I supposed to get anything done will all the noise? I had an exam the next day. Was it really surprising that I was failing history? "I'll be right back, baby," I told my little sister._

"_No," she said, trying to stop me._

_"I'll be right back," I insisted, slipping out the bedroom door. I'd just cleaned the living room the day before, and I was pissed to see that it was a mess again. I didn't know why I even tried._

_"Brian?"_

_"What do you want, you little bitch?" he snapped, from where he was slumped on the floor._

_"I'm trying to study," I said in as neutral a voice as I could. "Could you please keep it down? I have a big test tomorrow."_

_"So, you think you can tell me what to do now?" he asked, standing up and coming toward me. I backed away._

_"No," I said quickly._

_"You think _you _put this roof over _my _head, and gave _me _a place to live, and put food on _my _table?" He came closer. His breath was sour.  
_

_"I didn't say that," I stuttered, thinking that my empty stomach said otherwise._

_"Sure sounded like it," he snapped. His face was red with rage. "You should be begging me for forgiveness after I'll I've done for you, you little whore! You're lucky I took your sorry asses in."_

_"I'm sorry," I said, tears rolling down my cheeks._

_"You're sorry?" he sneered. I wiped my tears on my sleeve. "Then clean this shit up." He swept his hand over the wreckage in the living room._

_I stood there clueless. "I have to study!" I took a step back. "Gross. Your breath stinks."  
_

_"I'll teach you to mouth off to me." Next thing I knew, I felt a sharp blow across my face, and my cheek stung. My hand flew to touch the spot where he had slapped me. "I'm going out," he said. "If I come back to this mess, I'll bust your fucking jaw." He stalked out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Once he was gone, I fell to the floor and cried._

_"Sissy?" Sophia was now standing over me. "Did he hurt you?"_

_I nodded, and she knelt down to hug me. "Why doesn't he die?" I sobbed. "He drives drunk all the time. Why did mom have to die but not him? It isn't fair!"_

_"Don't cry, Callie," Sophia said, comforting and kissing me as if she were the older sister. "It scares me."_

_"Go get my history book okay?" I asked. "Read it to me while I'm cleaning."_

_"Okay," she nodded. She ran into my room, and came back with my book, while I found a garbage bag and started throwing things in._

_Sophia read out loud, stumbling over the bigger words, as I cleaned. A framed picture was shattered on the floor, where it had been knocked off the wall. I reached for the broken glass, a little too quickly, and cut my hand. "Son of a bitch."_

_I carefully picked the picture up. It was a picture of Brian and Laura on their wedding day; it wasn't ruined. I paused. There was something stuck to the back. There must have been another picture hidden behind the first one. I turned it over, and peeled off the second photo, slowly. It was a portrait of a little girl with a blond bowl cut and freckles. Curious, I checked the back for writing. Scrawled across it were the words, _Lindsey, Age 2_._

* * *

I awoke in the middle of the night to Stef's shadowy figure in the dark.

"Stef?" I whispered, glad to see her.

"Callie?" She knelt down beside me. "Did I wake you up, honey?"

"No," I said. "I was having a bad dream."

"Then I'm glad I came down when I did," she told me. She reached out to caress my cheek.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, sitting up a little. "The weird thing is, I remember everything about it. I think- I think I remembered Brian's daughter's name."

"You did?" Stef gasped. "What is it, honey?"

"I- I think it's Lindsey."

**To Be Continued- what do you think Lindsey will have to say? Do you think Stef will track her down?**


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

**Lena**

"How do you feel about seeing Dr. Kodema again, honey?" I asked Callie.

She turned from her painting and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Are you sure?" I pressed. "I don't want to force you into something that makes you uncomfortable, but I can't know how you're feeling unless you talk to me, hon."

She turned back to the wall, thoughtfully. "I don't want to see her again." She glanced over at me quickly. "If that's okay, I mean."

"It's fine," I assured her. "I had a feeling you might feel that way."

"She's nice and all," she went on. "But I don't know if I can trust her enough to talk to her. I know it's her job, but she still turned us in."

I nodded. "You're right. Your therapist should be someone you can trust enough to open up to. How do you feel about this, Soph?" When she didn't answer, I turned around.

"I haven't seen Sophia in a while," said Mariana, looking around the room. It was the next afternoon and the girls and I were getting some painting done, while the boys were unpacking Brandon's belongings in he and Jesus's room and Stef was at work. Sophia had been helping a minute ago, but now she was nowhere in sight.

"I think she went to the bathroom," Callie said, carefully painting around the edge of a window.

"I'll go check on her," I told them, standing up.

I went into the hall, and saw that the bathroom door was open. "Soph? Are you in there?" I stopped. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What'cha doing there, sweetie?"

Sophia was sitting on the toilet, shaving her legs with Brandon's electric razor. It appeared that she'd already nicked herself, too, judging by the thin line of blood running down her leg.

"My legs are hairy," she said quietly. "Kids at school are starting to notice. And all the other girls are shaving their legs..." She looked up at me with damp puppy dog eyes.

I nodded, looking down at the dark hair on her calves, suddenly struck by unpleasant memories of being twelve. "Did someone make fun of you, honey?"

"Yes," she admitted. "The girls in gym class."

"I went through the same thing when I was your age." I knelt down in front of her and put my hand on her knee. "Sophie, I think you're the perfect age to start shaving," I told her. "But you're not quite doing it right. And that's okay, because no one ever taught you."

"Do you think... you could teach me?" she asked, sheepishly.

I winked at her. "I'd be glad to. And in the future, if you need help with something, I want you to know that you can come to me or Stef. You don't have to be afraid to ask us for things, honey. We always have time for you." I took the electric razor from her, then cleaned her cut and put a band-aid over it. Then, I found a new razor and Mariana's raspberry scented shaving cream.

"This is the kind of razor you want to use," I explained. "And you don't want to shave your legs when they're dry, because it makes them really itchy. Plus, you could hurt yourself, as you've already found out," I added with a smile.

I sprayed some foam into my hand and massaged it into her skin.

"That smells good," she said.

I took a dab of it on my finger and dotted her nose, and we both burst out in giggles. "How about I do this leg for you," I offered. "And then you can try the other one. Does that sound okay?"

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "It does."

I shaved her left leg, carefully avoiding her bandage. When I was done, I handed her the razor and guided her through the right leg. "You did great, sweetheart," I smiled. "That wasn't hard at all, was it?"

"No," she said.

Then, suddenly her grin became serious. "Lena, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Promise you won't get mad...?" she ventured.

"I promise," I assured her. "You know you can tell me anything, peanut."

She took a deep breath. "Well, since I'm getting adopted, I was just wondering... could I _please _call you mama now?" Her dark eyes were full of longing to be loved and accepted. She wanted it so badly, you could see it in her face. It was the saddest, sweetest thing I'd ever seen.

"Oh, honey," I sighed, blinking back tears. I gently squeezed her shoulder. "I could never be mad at you. I really wanted to let you call me mama the first time you asked, but I didn't want you to get hurt if things didn't work out. You understand that there's always a chance the adoption might not go through, right?"

"Yes," she nodded. "It's just that... the other kids get to call you mama. And I don't want to feel like a foster kid anymore. I want to feel like your _real _kid."

"Sophia, you are our _real_ kid," I told her. "Our _love_ for you and Callie is real, and that's all that matters. Love makes us a family, not DNA or a piece of paper. So as long as you understand that nothing is settled yet with the adoption... I'd be proud to let you call me mama." I brushed her hair back and gave her a hug. "I love you so much, baby girl."

"I love you too, mama," she said, hugging me with all her might. I kissed her cheek, giving her one more squeeze.

"What about Stef?" she asked. "Can I call her mom?"

"It's up to her," I said. "You'll have to ask her. I think I heard her come home from work a minute ago."

"Okay," she said. "Come on."

In the hall, I knocked softly on my bedroom door. "Stef, honey?"

"Come in," she called back. "Door's open."

Stef had just changed out of her uniform, and was putting it away. When Sophia saw the gun in her hand, she froze. The poor kid was scared, as scared as she was the first time she saw Stef in uniform. Slowly, she started to back away.

"Sophia, baby," Stef breathed. "It's okay."

"No!" she cried, her breathing ragged. "Get it away." She squeezed her eyes shut, and tears leaked out. Her whole body was trembling. I took her in my arms and rocked her.

"Its okay," Stef promised, opening the safe in the closet. "I'm locking it up right now." She carefully emptied the bullets, then put the gun inside and closed it tight. "See, sweetie? It's gone." She shut the closet, then approached our foster daughter.

"Are you okay now, honey?" she asked quietly. She reached out for Sophia, but Sophia pulled away. I could tell that my wife felt terrible, and my heart ached for her.

"Look at me, Soph," Stef urged, tilting the young girl's chin so she could look her in the eye. "It's _me_, baby. Stef. I would never hurt you. You're safe. Okay?"

"Okay," Sophia said, cautiously.

Stef sat down on the bed and patted her knee. "Come here, love. Sit in my lap."

"I'm too big," Sophia fretted.

"No, you're not," Stef smiled. "Last Winter when Mariana had the flu, I held her in my lap, and you're smaller than her."

"Really?" she asked.

Stef nodded. "Come on. I want to hold you."

Reluctantly, Sophia climbed into Stef' lap, and my wife cradled her in her arms. "I feel bad that you got so scared, love," she said softly. "I've been so careful about handling my gun around you. I really have. But there are gonna be times when you probably will see it." She kissed the girl's cheek and squeezed her tight. "I know it upsets you, baby. I do. But I want to remind you that you _are_ safe. I'm trained to handle my gun. I keep it locked up, and I'm the only person who knows the combination. I would never put this family in danger. You guys are my whole world." She pressed her lips to Sophia's temple. "Did you know that I've never even had to use it on duty?"

Sophia looked up at her. "Really?"

"Really," she said. "And I hope I never have to. The thought of using it even scares me a little. So, I get where you're coming from, lovey, I do. It's a weapon, and it's powerful. But my gun also keeps me safe on the job, you know?"

Nodding, Sophia leaned against Stef and rested her head on her chest, calmer now. "I'm sorry I freaked out."

"You don't have to apologize," Stef said. "Just know that you're safe in this house."

My wife looked so sweet holding our daughter in her lap, it made my heart melt. "Soph," I said gently, rubbing her arm. "Why don't you ask Stef your question now?"

She lifted her head up to look Stef in the eye. "Lena said I can call her mama. Is it okay if I call you mom?"

I held up my hands. "I reminded her that the adoption isn't official until we hear it from the judge, and she understands that. But I said it was okay."

"You want to call me mom?" Stef asked, obviously pleased.

"Yes," Sophia nodded. "Is it okay?"

"Heck yeah," she smiled. "How can I say no to this cute little face?" She pinched Sophia's cheek and gave her a kiss.

"I love you, mom," Sophia told her. She reached out for my hand and squeezed my fingers. "I love both of you."

"We love you too, darling," Stef whispered. "We always will."

* * *

**Stef (the next day)**

I'd been sitting at my desk at the station all morning, trying to follow the leads on Lindsey and Laura, and I didn't have much to show for it. I didn't know where they lived, if they were together, and neither of them had been arrested. But I wouldn't -couldn't- give up. I had to find them, whether they wanted to be found or not. The situation was getting more desperate. Callie had woken up during the night with a night terror; she hadn't had one in so long, and she was inconsolable. Sophia was scared, so I sent her upstairs to sleep with Lena, and I stayed with Callie on the couch. This morning, though, she woke up with no memory of the night before, like always. I hated to see her like that, and I couldn't help but think that the sooner we got this mess settled, the better. For everyone's sake.

I banged my keyboard in frustration, which got Mike's attention. He scooted his desk chair closer to me. "What'd that keyboard do to you?"

I ran my fingers through my hair, sighing. "I need to find Brian's wife and daughter."

"How old is the daughter?" he asked, his eyes skimming the police database I was searching on.

I shrugged. "I haven't the slightest idea. Mid-to-late twenties, I'd guess."

"Maybe the problem is how you've been searching. What does every twenty-something have these days?" he pressed.

I turned to him and raised an eyebrow, starting to see what he was getting at. "Facebook?"

"Right," he smiled, patting me on the back. "Give it a try."

I typed Lindsey's name into a search engine, praying that she hadn't gotten married or changed her name. When the results popped up, I sucked in my breath, afraid to hope.

"I think this is her," I told Mike. The girl in the profile picture was blond with freckles, like Callie had described. I skimmed through her photos. Most of them were of herself and a toddler girl with white-blond hair. "Gracie, my little angel," she'd captioned one photo. Her profile said she lived in Arizona. Not far from here at all. "This has to be her."

I scrolled a little further down the page and stopped. There was a picture of the little girl, Gracie, sitting on the hood of a car, with Lindsey holding her hand. The license plate number was a little fuzzy, but it was readable. I reached for my reading glasses and squinted, trying to make out the letter and numbers, and jotted them down.

"Now that you have her license plate it'll be a cinch to find her," Mike smiled.

Minutes later, I was holding Lindsey's phone number in my hand. My heart thumping in my chest, I dialed it. It rang and rang, and finally, she answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi," I said. "Is this Lindsey Bowen?"

"Yes," she said slowly. "Who's this?"

"This is Officer Stefanie Adams Foster," I said. "Are you the daughter of a Mr. Brian S. Bowen?"

"Yes... why?"

"I'm calling regarding your father," I told her. "Is this a good time?"

"No," she said. "I don't want anything to do with my father. And you can tell him that." She hung up before I could even explain.

"Damn it," I muttered. I tried to call her back, but my call was sent to voice mail. I left her a quick message and my phone number. When I hung up, I felt like crying. So close... so damn close.

I stood up and grabbed my purse. "I'm taking a half-day," I told Mike, without explaining. I needed to be alone, to think.

When I got home, I changed my clothes and went to girls' room. I poured some paint and dipped a roller into it, hoping to paint away my frustrations.

* * *

**Callie**

My eyelids were heavy. They felt like lead. I was in English class, listening to Timothy drone on about a book I'd read half of at my last school. It was amazing how many halves of books I'd read, switching schools so often. I laid my head down on my desk, watching Emma take notes. I yawned. It wouldn't hurt to rest my eyes for just a minute...

"Callie?"

I jerked my head up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, to see Timothy standing over me. "Are we keeping you up, Miss Jacob?"

"I'm sorry," I muttered. How long had I been out?

"Callie, I tolerate a lot of things, but sleeping in class isn't one of them," he said. "Why don't you see yourself to the office?"

"But I-" I protested.

He shook his head and scribbled something on a slip of paper. "Go."

Sighing, I got up. Brandon gave me an understanding look as I left the classroom. Standing in the hall, I was shaking. No way was this the first time I'd gotten in trouble at school. Not by a long-shot. I did a lot of things I wasn't proud of in my former schools. Cheating, being one. Cutting class, being another. But in those other schools, the vice principal wasn't my foster mom.

I knocked on Lena's door.

"Come in," she called. When she saw me holding a discipline slip, she gave me a surprised, even disappointed look. "Callie. Hi, sweets. What's up?"

I handed her the note, dreading her reaction. I wasn't afraid of being punished; Stef and Lena's punishments usually consisted of grounding or taking away privileges, which was nothing compared to being beaten or locked in a closet. I was worried she'd tell Bill. Would he take us away if he thought we were having problems?

"You fell asleep in class, honey?" Lena asked, frowning.

I nodded, looking down at my shoes with remorse. "I'm sorry, Lena. It won't happen again."

She got up from her desk, took my face between her hands and looked into my eyes. "You haven't been sleeping well at all, have you Callie?"

"No," I admitted. "Not really."

"Would you like to go home and rest?" she asked me.

"Really?" I asked. "I'm not in trouble?"

She shook her head. "It's not your fault you're tired, sweetie. As long as you don't make a habit out of it, I don't see the problem with sending you home for a nap."

I sighed with relief. "Thanks, Lena."

She went to her desk and wrote out a pass. "Go lay down in the nurse's office, and I'll see if Stef can come get you."

"Okay." I went across the hall to the nurse, and gave her my pass. She took it, and waved me over to a cot. I laid down and stared at the ceiling, wondering how many germy heads had laid on the leather pillow before me, and how often they cleaned it. When that got too gross, I just lay still and listen to the clock tick while I waited for Stef.

I must have dozed off again. I woke up to the sound of a familiar voice. I saw Stef outside the nurse's window, signing me out of school, and my heart leaped. I waved, getting her attention.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," she said, coming over to me. She lay her hand on my forehead, then my cheek. "You ready to go home."

"Yes," I said, sitting up. "Thanks, Stef. I'm sorry you had to leave work for me."

"It was no problem. I was actually already home," she said. "I took a half-day off to get a little painting done in your room."

I noticed then that she wasn't in uniform. She was wearing a loose t-shirt and faded, paint-splattered jeans. Her blond hair was in a messy bun. My throat felt weird and tight. I wondered if I was coming down with something.

"I'll get that, love," she said, picking up my backpack. She took my hand and helped me up, and we went to the car.

When we got home, Stef asked me if I wanted a sandwich. "Okay," I said. "But first, can I see my room?"

"Yeah."

We went upstairs and she opened the door. I looked around, not blinking. The soft blue looked beautiful with the white woodwork. It looked like the sky, and clouds. There was only one wall left to do.

"You like it so far?"

I nodded. "It's great." I wanted to throw my arms around Stef, to tell her I loved her; I loved her so much, but once again, my tongue was paralyzed. Why couldn't I tell her how I felt?

She leaned down and kissed the top of my head. "You'll be back in your own bed in no time, slug-a-bug." She ushered me to her room and pulled the sheet back on her bed. "Lay down for a while, love. I'll bring your lunch up in a little bit."

I kicked off my shoes and climbed into bed, and she tucked me in. Then, she went downstairs. When she came back, she had a a tray with her. She sat down beside me, and passed me a plate with a turkey sandwich on it. "Lunch in bed," she winked.

When we were finished eating, she set our tray aside. "Well, I guess I better get back to painting. Will you be okay resting in here?"

"Yeah," I said, struggling to keep my eyes open.

"I'll be right across the hall if you need me," she said, fluffing the pillow for me and kissing my forehead. "Sweet dreams. I love you."

I nodded, then rolled over. She stayed for a few minutes, rubbing my back. I fell asleep feeling warm inside and out.

**To Be Continued- How do you like this story so far? Please keep reading and reviewing!**

**Note: Lindsey Bowen is a fictional character (her Facebook is fictional too). Any similarities to real people, living or dead, are strictly coincidental :).**


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22.

**Callie**

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked around, a little confused. Then I remembered where I was and how I got there. I was still in Stef and Lena's bed, because I got sent home early from school. I peeked at the alarm clock on the nightstand and saw that it wasn't quite four-thirty yet. I climbed out of bed and went downstairs.

I could hear Stef and Lena talking in the kitchen, and from their voices, I could tell they were discussing something important. I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but I lingered in the kitchen doorway anyway, my curiosity piqued.

"She wouldn't even listen to me," said Stef, shaking her head. "She just hung up on me. Which supports my theory, by the way."

"So, she doesn't even know her father's dead?" Lena asked, frowning.

I stood there still, wondering what they were talking about, when Stef glanced over and saw me. "Callie?"

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I just needed a drink, and I heard you talking. I didn't want to interrupt..."

She nodded, then pulled out the chair next to her. "You're old enough to hear what's going on, sweetie. Have a seat."

I sat down, feeling like I was a part of some special club, just me and them. It felt good. "So what's up?" I asked.

"Well, I located Brian's daughter," Stef explained. "Unfortunately, she wouldn't talk to me and doesn't seem to know that Brian is dead." She studied my frown. "But don't you worry, love. You know me well enough to know that I'm not gonna give up that easily."

"I know," I smiled.

"I'll do whatever it takes," she promised. "Even if I have to go find her personally and camp out outside her door."

I laughed at the idea of that. I knew she was joking, but I believed she really would do that if it came down to it. I got up and poured myself a glass of juice, then sat back down. Sipping it, I gave my foster moms a sober look. "So, are you gonna tell Bill what I did?"

"What did you do?" Stef asked me.

"I fell asleep in class today and got a discipline slip," I reminded her.

"Didn't I already tell you not to worry about it, honey?" Lena asked me.

I nodded. "I was just worried. If Bill thought we were having problems here, he might..." My voice trailed off. I couldn't finish my sentence; it was too painful. "I just don't want to mess things up. He said this home was our last chance."

"Baby," Stef sighed, laughing a little. She took my hands in hers. "You worry much too much. You're not in trouble, and we're not gonna tell Bill anything."

I felt Lena's hand on my back. "I wouldn't even call your falling asleep in class a discipline issue, honey."

Stef was still holding my hands in her lap, and she pulled me closer and hugged me. "Someday soon, you won't ever have to worry about social workers again, my love."

I nodded, resting my cheek on her shoulder, trying to imagine what that would be like.

* * *

**One Week Later**

"I'm so nervous," Sophia whispered, leaning against me. "I feel like I'm gonna puke."

"Please don't puke on me," I teased. Lena had pulled some strings and found us a new therapist right away, a woman named Rita Hendricks. Now, Sophia, Stef, and I sat in the waiting room, waiting for our first appointment with her.

"Aren't _you_ nervous?" my sister asked me.

"A little," I admitted. "But hey- I'll be right there with you, like always. So don't worry."

She nodded. "I know."

Stef reached over from her seat and petted Sophia's hair. "Callie's right. And I'll be right out here, waiting for you, too."

I watched my sister breath out a sigh of relief.

A few minutes later, a heavy-set woman with dark hair and glasses came out to the waiting room. "You must be Callie and Sophia Jacob," she said.

We nodded.

"Hi," she said. "My name is Rita Hendricks"

"Nice to meet you," said Stef, reaching out to shake Rita's hand. "I'm Callie and Sophia's foster mom."

"Nice to meet you too," Rita smiled. "I'm excited to work with the girls." She clapped her hands together. "So, who am I seeing first?"

"First?" Sophia squeaked. "I thought we were going in together."

"I think it's best to talk to you each individually," Rita said. She had a blunt, honest-even-when-it-hurt personality, I could tell that right away. "Sophia, you're the youngest, and the youngest never gets to go first, so how about we change that today? Why don't you come on back with me?"

Sophia turned to Stef, giving her a panicked look. Her face had gone pale. She reached out and grasped my hand. "I don't want to go in without my sister."

"I don't bite," Rita promised. "You'll be okay."

"Callie has been Sophia's security for a long time now," Stef said quietly.

"I appreciate that," the other woman nodded. "But even so, I'd like to get to know the girls one-on-one."

Sophia sat stone-still; she could be stubborn when she wanted to be, and I could tell Rita wasn't going to take no for an answer. Before it became a battle of wills, I took my sister's hands in mine and looked her in the eye. "Listen, Sophie Bug. It's going to be okay. I know you can do this. You're braver than you think. _So_ brave. And if I see you do this, I know I'll be able to do it too. So, can you just go with it for me?"

Her face softened. "I guess so. For you."

"Good girl," I nodded, hugging her. "Hey, I love you."

"I love you too," she said. "Thanks, sissy."

"No problem, baby."

So, Sophia followed Rita to her office, turning to give Stef and I one last, unsure look. Once she was gone, Stef moved over a seat, so she was sitting next to me. "You are so amazing with her."

"It was nothing," I said. "But thanks."

"I'm sorry, honey," she apologized. "I didn't know Rita was going to separate you two."

"It's okay," I shrugged. "She has to grow up sometime. I mean, what am I am I going to do? Go along on her honeymoon?"

Stef laughed, patting my back. "You always know what to say to her, though," she said. "You must be pretty nervous, yourself."

I shrugged again. "I'll be fine."

Stef put her arm around me and pulled me closer. "You and I are a lot alike. You know that?"

I looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

She nodded, smiling. "We always have to be strong for everyone, we have to hold everyone up. And that's okay. Just remember that there's nothing wrong with _not_ being strong sometimes. It doesn't make you weak. Not at all."

I sat still, taking in the meaning of her words. She tilted her head down and kissed my forehead. "Want to take a walk down the hall with me and get a soda?"

"Sure," I said. "That would be great." Lena didn't allow us to have soda very often, so as Stef and I went to the vending machine to get drinks, it felt almost sinful, in a good way, sharing another secret with my foster mom. I chose orange soda, and she chose diet cola. We went back to the waiting room and sat down.

I opened my can and took a slow sip; the carbonation tickled my nose. I wanted to make it, and the moment, last. I felt Stef put her arm back around me. The weight was comforting. I allowed myself to rest my head on her shoulder. We didn't talk, we just just sat there like that, her brushing her fingers softly up and down my arm. Stef and I didn't always need words, I'd discovered. We had a sort of silent understanding. It scared me sometimes, because no one had ever known me so well, and it also made me love her even more.

At last, Sophia and Rita came back out to the waiting room. It was my turn. Before I could go, Stef hugged and kissed me. "Good luck, slug-a-bug," she said. "I love you." Her green eyes locked with mine, and I got the feeling she was hoping I'd finally say it back. But I went mute.

I looked down, ashamed. "Thank you."

I turned and followed Rita. Her office was kind of cluttered- games, books, CDs. It was nothing like Dr. Kodema's neat, tidy office. But Her diplomas hung on the wall, showing her qualifications. I sat down on the couch. Her book shelf was crammed with psychology books, with titles like _The Angry Child_, _Overcoming Incest_, and _When Parents Divorce_. I read the titles to myself. My eyes fell on one book, _Healing After Abuse_. My fingers itched to pick it up and thumb through it, to find answers in it's pages, though I doubted it had anything to help me in it. I was a lost cause. But still, I was curious.

Rita and I went over the formalities quickly. My medical history, blah, blah, blah. By now, I could recite my medical history without even thinking about it. Then, Rita threw me a curve ball. "Why don't we start by telling me about your family?"

"My family?" I wasn't expecting her to ask me that. "There's not much to tell," I said nervously. "My mother's dead, my dad's in prison. It's just me and Sophia."

"I don't mean your biological family," she said, as if it were obvious. "I mean your foster family."

"Oh," I nodded. "Well, I have two foster moms. Stef and Lena. And they have two sons and a daughter."

"Are you happy with them?" she asked me. "I hear they're planning to adopt you. That's pretty cool."

I mulled over her question, trying to stall. There was nothing I hated more than being put on the spot. "I _am_ happy with them," I finally said. "They don't treat us like foster kids, like some families do. Sophia loves them to death."

"Do _you _love them?" She watched me intently, waiting for an answer. "I just noticed that when your foster mom told you she loved you back in the waiting room, you didn't say anything back."

I squirmed in my seat. My face got hot. "I- I guess I do. Yes." I sighed. "I want to say it back, but I can't. When I try, I just freeze up."

She nodded. "I see. Has it always been difficult for you to tell people you care?"

I thought about that. "Yeah."

"Why's that? Do you know?"

"I dunno," I shrugged. "I guess I feel like, what's the point? Everyone I've ever cared about leaves me. Except Sophia, and if we don't win our court case, she'll be leaving me too." My eyes stung as I spoke, and my throat tightened. But I would not cry in front of this stranger. Not now, not ever. "It's just easier not to get close to people."

"That way, you never get hurt," Rita finished.

I nodded sullenly

"Could it also be that part of you is worried that if you tell someone you care, they suddenly won't feel the same way?" she asked. "And that might hurt more than having them leave?"

I winced. She'd struck a nerve, big time. It was almost as if this nosy, pushy woman could read my most personal, darkest thoughts. It left me feeling naked. "I guess so."

"In your heart, I think you know that won't happen," Rita told me. "It's always a gamble to invest your emotions in someone else. But in the end, you just have to give people a chance."

"Look," I said. "I do love Stef and Lena. I _want_ to tell them, but I can't right now. I- I'm too scared."

She smiled and nodded. "That's okay. When you're ready, you'll be able to tell them."

* * *

"Hey, did she ask you about Brian?" I asked Sophia when we got home. My first meeting with Rita had left me emotionally drained. I sensed that my sister felt the same way, judging by how quiet she was in the car.

She shook her head. "No. Did she ask you?"

"No," I said. My past foster homes hadn't even come up. Weird.

"She'll probably make us talk about it next time," Sophia shrugged.

"Hey, girls!" Stef called from upstairs. "Can you come up here for a minute?" She's rushed upstairs as soon as we got in the door.

"Yes!" I answered. "Coming!"

When we got to the upstairs hall, Stef, Lena, and the other kids were standing outside our closed bedroom door. "Come here," said Lena. "Both of you. And close your eyes."

My sister and I shared a confused look. "Okay." We squeezed our eyes shut.

"No peeking," Stef said, taking our hands. I heard the door open. Finally, she said, "Okay. Now you can look."

I opened my eyes, blinking against the light. "Surprise!" everyone shouted.

I was looking at our room. It was finished. And it wasn't just that that walls were all done, either. Our beds were made up with brand new bedding. Sophia's comforter was sprinkled with periwinkle and purple flowers. Mine was a geometric pattern, periwinkle against white. Sheer curtains hung on the windows, blowing forward in the light breeze. A pretty throw rug was on the floor between our beds. And there was a second nightstand on my side. Each nightstand had a brand new lamp on it. And everything complemented our freshly painted walls.

"This is so awesome!" Sophia cried, hopping up and down.

"I'm glad you like it," Lena smiled. "Everyone pulled to get it together while you girls were gone this afternoon."

Sophia threw her arms around Lena, then Stef. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Thanks, everyone," I said. I couldn't help but smile. The room was beautiful. Happier than I'd been in a long time, I reached out to hug my foster moms.

* * *

**Stef **** (The Next Day)****  
**

I came through the back door, thumbing through the mail. Junk, junk, bills, junk. The last piece of mail in the stack was from our lawyer. I felt my heart pound as I slit it open with my thumbnail. My hands shook as I unfolded the letter. As I read it, my stomach dropped. We had a court date. It was scheduled in two weeks.

I sat down, and tears filled my eyes. I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this. But it did.

I had to talk to Brian's daughter. I had to find Laura. There just wasn't enough time to wait around anymore. The girls' futures depended on them. Feeling a surge of boldness, I took out my cell phone and dialed Lindsey's number. It rang and rang before going to voice mail.

"Lindsey," I said, trying to keep my voice steady through my tears. "This is Stefanie Adams Foster. I need to talk to you about your father. You don't have to worry about him anymore, if that's what you're afraid of, but I need to speak to you. I know you don't want to talk to me, and I don't mean to bother you, but I'm desperate. My daughters need your help. Please call me back at-"

Suddenly, I heard a click, and a female voice spoke on the other end. "Your daughters. Did he hurt them?"

**To Be Continued- I love Rita's character, so she just had to be in this story. Were you surprised to see her?  
**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23. (warning: this chapter contains some descriptions of abuse)

**Stef**

Lindsey agreed to meet with us the next day. After I got off the phone with her, I went to find Callie and Sophia. "How would you two like to take a little road trip with me tomorrow?" I asked. I figured that if Lindsey could see their faces, the sadness in their eyes, she might be more compelled to speak up for them. I knew I would.

So, in the morning, the three of us drove to Lindsey's home. As we headed up her front walk, the blondest little girl I'd ever seen watching us through the screen door. She waved to us excitedly as I rang the bell.

Seconds later, Lindsey scooped her up in her arms and opened the door for us. "You must be Stef? I'm Lindsey."

I nodded. "Yes, nice to meet you."

"Come on in," she said. She adjusted the toddler on her hip. "This is Gracie."

"Hi Gracie," I smiled. "Aren't you a pretty girl?" Gracie smiled, wriggling free from her mom's grasp. "This is Callie, and Sophia," I said, introducing her to each of the girls.

"Hi," she said, a sad smile creeping onto her freckled face. She turned back to me. "Um, I'd like to talk to you in private, if that's okay?" She glanced back at the girls nervously.

"Of course," I said. "I understand.

"Maybe Callie and Sophia could take Gracie out to the back yard to play?" she offered. "Is that alright?"

"It's fine," I nodded. "Okay with you, girls?"

They nodded. "Yay, I love babies!" Sophia grinned, taking Gracie's chubby hand. Gracie led her and Callie out the back door to a swing set.

Lindsey sat down and I joined her. She picked at her nails nervously. "I can't help but ask," she said, with a small, nervous laugh. "Who the hell in their right mind would give my dad kids?"

"I don't know," I said quietly. I still hadn't told her that Brian was dead. I didn't have the heart to do it over the phone. I knew it was inevitable, though. However, I couldn't help but worry. I had no idea how Lindsey would react. If she knew how he died, would she still help us?

"I have some news for you," I told her. I looked past her shoulder toward the back door. Sophia was pushing Gracie on a baby swing. Callie was sitting on the edge of a sandbox, watching the house wistfully, probably wishing she were a fly on the wall. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this," I said, "but your father passed away recently."

Lindsey blinked, her pale lashes fanning her expressionless face. "I don't know what to say," she said. "I just... oh my gosh. How? What happened?"

"He was shot," I told her, holding back the details.

Lindsey ran her hands over her face. When she took them away, there were tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," I said, reaching out to lay my hand on her shoulder, rubbing it gently.

She nodded. "I just feel like a huge weight's been lifted off my shoulders," she said quietly. "I know I should be crying because he was my dad, and he's dead. But I'm crying because I finally feel free. Is that terrible of me?"

"No," I told her. "Everyone processes their feelings differently. And I know that you didn't have the best relationship with him."

"I suppose you want me to tell you about him?" she asked, wiping her tears. "About the abuse."

"Take your time," I said. "There's no rush."

She sucked in a gush of breath. "I'm ready. I want to talk about this." She balled a tissue in her hand, and took a few more shaky breaths. "I need to talk about this."

"I'll listen," I assured her.

She nodded. "My dad started coming into my room at night when I was five years old," she said. "I'd wake up, and he'd be touching me. It... it got worse over time." She looked down, quiet for a long moment.

"He told me never to tell my mother," she continued. "He said if I told anyone, the government people would take me away. One day, I remember thinking, would that really be such a bad thing? At least, I'd be away from him. So, I told my mom. She said I was lying. She slapped me across the face. That was the only time she'd ever hit me. I think she was just afraid to do anything. Then, she went on a week-long drinking binge. After that, I was too ashamed to tell anyone what was going on. I thought no one would believe me."

I nodded, feeling intensely sad for the girl sitting in front of me. "Was he ever physically or emotionally abusive to you and your mother?"

"Yes," she said. "He was always slapping mom around, bullying her. I guess that was why she drank so much; as an escape. I know that's why I got into drugs in high school." She paused. "I'm clean now, and I'm happy. I'm in therapy, I'm married to a good man, and I have Gracie. She's all that matters."

"That's wonderful," I said. "I'm glad you were able to start over. Not everyone is strong enough to do that."

She blushed a little, smiling shyly. "Anyway, yeah. My dad was an asshole. My parents hid their drinking pretty well, but I think he had a worse problem than my mom did. When he was like that, he'd... hit me." Her voice shook a little. "Sometimes with a belt, sometimes with his hands. Once, he hurt me bad enough to need stitches, and he drove me to the emergency room himself. He told the nurse that I fell off the trampoline."

I shuddered. "Did your mother ever try to help you?"

She shrugged. "When I was little, she'd lock me in the bathroom when he was really bad. I just remember sitting on the floor screaming to get out. She threatened to take me and leave sometimes, but she never followed through with it. She didn't have any money, or a car. And she was too afraid to call the cops or anything like that. Even though he treated her like dirt, I guess just being with him made her feel secure, for some reason."

"You had a falling out with your parents," I said. "What happened?"

"I ran away when I was fifteen," she said. "I had a boyfriend, and once when we were high, I let it slip about what was going on. He told me to pack my bags and meet him that night. So I did. I wrote my mother a note, and never looked back."

I nodded slowly. I couldn't help but wonder what Callie would have done if she didn't have Sophia to think about. Would she have turned to drugs or ran away, like Lindsey did?

"We didn't stay together for very long," she said. "He turned out to be a jerk. He dumped me and took off. So, I stayed with a friend, and got a job as a waitress. That's how I met my husband. I sent my mom a Christmas card once, but I never heard back."

"Oh," I said. "I'm sorry."

"What about your daughters?" she asked me. "What did my father do to them?" She gave me an intense look, fear in her clear blue eyes.

"Well," I said, taking a deep breath. "Their story is similar to yours. Your mother left your father, but she didn't take Callie and Sophia with her. The night she left, he started hurting them. He sexually abused Callie, and she took it so he'd leave her little sister alone. He beat them and neglected them. And a few months ago, everything came to a head."

I paused, knowing I'd reached the point of no return. "This might be hard for you to hear..." I warned.

"I can handle it," she assured me. "I want to know the truth."

"Okay," I said. "This is what happened. Callie, against her better judgement, left her sister alone in the house with Brian. When she came home, she caught him sexually abusing Sophia. She did what she could to stop him, and he hurt her. Sophia went to call for help, but he broke the phone before she could get to it. Sophia was desperate- he was beating her sister, threatening to kill them. So she did the only thing she could do. She took his gun from the drawer, and she shot him."

Lindsey's mouth hung open in shock. Speechless, she looked back at the door, watching Sophia play with Gracie. "That little girl killed my father?"

I nodded. "I'm sorry..." I paused. "She didn't _mean _to kill him. She only wanted to stop him from hurting them. And if you're worried about Sophia being around your daughter, don't. She's not violent. She's the sweetest, most loving child in the world. I wouldn't keep her in my home if I didn't believe she was completely harmless. Callie too. They've been a tremendous blessing to my wife and I. We love them both so much."

"I believe you," she said. "I just... feel bad that they went through that."

"So do I," I said. "But we're trying to help them put it behind them. We're planning to adopt them as soon as we get this hearing settled. That's why I need your help. We need to convince the judge that Sophia killed your father in self-defense, because she and Callie's lives were in immediate danger. It's hard, because your father's dead now, and he was never convicted of a violent crime. But if _you_ told the judge what you just told me, your testimony could change everything."

She shrunk back, chewing her lip. "It took so long for me to move forward."

"I know," I said. "I do. But just think... you could help my girls do the same thing, Lindsey. They're hurting. Callie wakes up screaming with night terrors, and Sophia's afraid to leave her sister's side for even a minute. They haven't been diagnosed yet, but I believe they both have Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. And if Sophia had to go to jail for what she did, they'd never survive."

"I'll do it," she finally said. "I'll help them in any way I can."

"Really?" I sucked in my breath. "You don't know how much this means to us. I don't know how to thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," she said. "I'm a mother, too. And If my little girl went through what yours did, I'd want justice too."

Just then, the girls and Gracie came through the back door. "Gracie has to go potty," Sophia said, looking at us apologetically.

"Do you, baby?" asked Lindsey. "Aren't you a big girl for telling someone." She took the little girl by the hand. "Excuse me for just a minute," she said. "We're potty training."

"How's it going?" Callie asked, sitting down next to me, her eyes searching my face for answers.

"It's going well," I told her, wrapping her in my arms and breathing in the smell of her hair. "She's going to help us, baby." I gave her a kiss, then pulled Sophia onto my lap.

A few minutes later, Lindsey and Gracie returned. "Can I talk to your daughters for a minute?" she asked me. "Please?"

"Of course," I nodded.

Sophia slid off my lap and sat down next to Callie. Lindsey sat across from them, looking them in the eye. "Girls, I want to apologize for what my father did to you. What my mother did, too. I know that can never make it right, though." Her eyes filled with tears. "But your mom told me your story, and I think the two of you are so strong. You did what I never had the courage to do. Instead, I made some really bad choices. If I'd known about you two, I would have came and got you, and took you out of that house. But I promise you- you have my _word_\- that I'll speak up for you in court. It's the only way I can think of to even begin making up for what my father put you through. I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Callie said, blinking back tears. "You didn't _know_."

"Still, it was _my_ family," she said. "And I can't help but feel somewhat responsible. Doing this for you will help me too, more than you could ever know." She smiled through her tears. "Can- can I have a hug?"

Sophia and Callie nodded, and Lindsey took them both in her arms at once.

Before we left, I had to ask. "Do you have any idea where I can find your mother? I'd like to get in touch with her, and see if she's willing to testify."

"I haven't talked to her in years," Lindsey told me. "But her sister might know. My aunt, Bonnie Wilcox. Hold on." She went to a desk and took out and address book. She copied down an address and phone number. "This is where to reach her, last I knew. I hope it helps."

I recognized the zip code. It wasn't too far from us, and even if the information was outdated, it was more than enough to help me locate her. "Thank you," I said. "We'll be in touch."

* * *

It turned out that the information Lindsey gave me to reach her aunt was current. Not only that, but it led me straight to Laura. She'd been _living _with her sister since leaving Brian. I didn't think I could get any luckier than that. I just hoped my luck would hold out.

The next day, I paid a visit to Laura alone, without the girls. She refused to meet me at her home, asking me to meet her at a park. I found her sitting on a secluded park bench, throwing bits of bagel to the seagulls. "Laura?" I asked.

She looked up, and I recognized Lindsey in her. She had the same blue eyes and freckles. She nodded. "You must be Stefanie."

I sat down. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she said. "Thanks."

"I'd like to get right down to business," I told her politely. "We spoke a little last night on the phone? About Callie and Sophia?"

"How are they?" she asked me, her eyes flashing with something I thought might be concern, but it was gone before I could decide.

"They... they're having a hard time, honestly," I admitted. "But we're getting them all the help we can, and plenty of love. They've truly become part of our family."

"I'm glad for them." She tossed the last of the crumbs to the birds, then brushed off her hands. "You said something about a trial? I don't understand. What do you want with me?"

"I just want answers," I said, trying to keep my cool. I quickly explained to her everything that happened once she left the girls with Brian, without skipping a detail.

"I knew the shooting wasn't an accident," she said, shaking her head. "I just can't believe it was Sophia who killed him. She'd cry when someone killed a spider."

"She doesn't feel good about what she did," I told her. "I think she'd give anything to take it back. But she did what she had to do to save herself and Callie." When Laura didn't answer, I went on. "I'd like to know your side of the story. Please?"

She nodded. "Alright. Where should I start?"

"How about when your daughter, Lindsey was young, before she left home?"

She looked at me, a little bit startled. "How did you know about that?"

"I've done my research," I told her. "It's necessary to support the investigation."

She looked away. "I suppose Lindsey already told you a lot," she said. "Yes, Brian abused us. I'll admit that. And sometimes I hate him for it. But... I can't blame him completely. It wasn't all his fault."

"Why? Did someone else hold him at gunpoint and force him to hit you and your children?" I immediately wished I'd kept my mouth shut. But I couldn't bite my tongue. There was nothing that got under my skin more than a victim defending their abuser. However, I knew I wasn't helping matters either by being sarcastic.

She looked back at me, seemingly on the verge of tears. "He had a sickness. I knew what he was going through, so I tried to be understanding. I struggled with alcoholism too."

"I see where you're coming from," I said. "My ex-husband was an alcoholic, and it was difficult on the whole family. But Brian's behavior can't be completely blamed on his addiction." I sighed. "Why don't we skip to when Callie and Sophia came into your lives?"

"Okay," she said. "I was heartbroken when Lindsey left. She was our only child. I went into a deep depression. Finally, Brian and I decided to get some help. We went to AA meetings, trying to get sober. He really did change, but I still wasn't happy. I kept telling him I wished I could have another chance to be a mother. Then one day, I saw a flier at the grocery store about becoming foster parents, and we decided to do it."

"I see," I said. I was still trying to form an opinion of Laura. She seemed nice enough, but there was something about her that rubbed me the wrong way.

"We were placed with Callie and Sophia right away," she went on. "We had problems with them from the start."

"What sorts of problems?" I asked.

"Behavioral problems," she said. "Callie was angry, combative, mouthy. Sophia was sullen. She hardly ever spoke. I caught Callie stealing money from us a few times, and she would lie right to my face about it."

"That doesn't sound like Callie," I said. "She's always been well-behaved for us."

She shrugged. "I'm not lying."

"I didn't say you were," I said. "I'm sorry. Please, go on."

"I guess the stress of having the kids in the house became too much for Brian," she continued. "I wanted the kids, but he never really did. The money was what convinced him to let me take them. He'd been out of work for a while. Eventually, he went back to drinking and beating me. I started drinking again too, just as a way to cope."

She paused. "I'd thought about leaving Brian on and off over the years, but I didn't have the resources to take care of myself. I didn't know where I'd go, or what I'd do. But one day, he hit me so hard, he knocked me out. I called my sister, and she offered to come get me in an hour. She did."

"Why didn't you take the girls with you?" I asked. "You must have known they wouldn't be safe with your husband."

"I couldn't take them out of the county," she said, tearing up. "Otherwise I would've. But I had to leave so suddenly. And Brian had never laid a hand on either of the girls. I figured he'd just call their social worker and have them removed from the home, so he wouldn't have to deal with them."

"You should have called their social worker than night," I said, gently. "They could have been put in emergency placement."

"I made a mistake," she said. "I'm sorry. But I can't change it now."

"There _is_ something you can do," I told her. "You can testify on behalf of the girls. You can tell him about Brian's history of violence. Any information you give could only strengthen their case."

She wiped her tears on her sleeve. "Could I be charged with something if I do?"

I couldn't lie to her. "You could be charged with endangering the welfare of a child," I said. "But the judge might take into consideration that you were a battered wife."

She sobbed harder, shaking her head. "I can't do it. I'm afraid."

"But what about Callie and Sophia?" I asked her. "They're the ones who've had to pay for your mistake. They didn't come away from your home unscathed. I should know. I get up with them night after night when they have nightmares." I held her gaze a little longer. "Maybe things were supposed to turn out this way, because they ended up with our family, where they're loved and cared for. But that doesn't make it right. No child should have to go through what they did."

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, standing up. "I want to help, but I can't. I won't testify."

"I hope you change your mind," I told her. "Because you owe those babies, Laura. And this might be the only chance you have to make amends."

**To Be Continued**


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 23.

**Callie**

"There you are, baby," Stef said, hopping up from her chair to hug me. That was just how she was; she always greeted us like she hasn't seen us in years. I'd only been in Rita's office for forty-five minutes.

"Hey," I smiled, hugging her back.

"Mrs. Foster, I'd like to speak to you," Rita said politely. "Please?"

"Sure," Stef nodded. "What about?"

Rita glanced over at me. "Honey, why don't you go ahead and take a seat? This will only take a minute."

"Go ahead, love," said Stef, winking at me. "I'll be right there."

I nodded, then crossed the waiting room and sat down next to Sophia, who was happily popping M&amp;Ms in her mouth. "Where did you get those?" I asked, ruffling her hair.

"Mom got them for me," she told me. It was still strange hearing my sister call Stef and Lena 'mom and mama.' I wondered if our own mom would mind, but decided she wouldn't. She would have liked Stef and Lena. "She got you some too," Sophia said, handing me another bag.

"Shh," I whispered. "I want to hear what's going on." I had an idea of what they were talking about. I'd told Rita about The Brian Thing at my session; my eyes still burned from the tears I refused to shed in front of her. Now Rita knew just how messed up I was. I couldn't see how we could be in any more trouble than we were already in, though.

I put a blue M&amp;M on my tongue and sucked it while I strained my ears to listen, letting it melt in my mouth while I strained my ears to listen. Rita was doing most of the talking. "I lead a support group for grieving teens," she was saying. "We meet every Saturday at eleven. I'd love to have Callie and Sophia in our group."

Stef gave her a thoughtful look. "Do you think a group like that would be right for them? When I hear it, I think of kids who have lost loved ones..."

"Well, there are different kinds of grief," Rita told her. "I work with young people who have gone through all kinds of emotional trauma. The girls certainly fit that criteria."

"It could be good for them," said Stef. "I'll talk to my wife about it. I think she'll agree."

My heart sunk. I'd been to group therapy before, when we were at the group home, and I hated it. Me, sitting in a circle, sharing my deepest thoughts with a bunch of strangers? I don't think so. I hoped Stef would understand, and she wouldn't make me go.

"I'd appreciate that," Rita said.

"What about PTSD?" Stef asked, lowering her voice. "Do you think they could have that? Callie has these night terrors..."

I leaned in to hear her soft, raspy voice, but I missed the end of her sentence.

"I haven't been seeing them long enough to make a diagnosis," Rita told her; her voice was naturally loud, so I didn't have to struggle to hear her. "But considering what they've gone through, it's a possibility I'd like to explore."

Stef thanked her and said goodbye, then came for us. "Well, my loves, ready to head out?"

* * *

**Stef**

The kids didn't talk much on the way home. Sophia had been especially quiet since we got a court date. When we got home, she went straight upstairs, probably to play with her dolls. I think they took her mind off of it all. I wished Callie had an escape like that. She played the guitar a little, but other than that, she didn't seem to have any hobbies she was passionate about. Sophia managed to find some joy in life. I just wished Callie could be happier...

I took some frozen chicken breasts out of the freezer and put them in the microwave to thaw. I was washing my hands, when I noticed Callie was still in the kitchen."Do you need any help?" she asked.

I smiled. "Not at the moment," I said. "But you're sweet for asking, slug-a-bug." I reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "Do you want a snack or something? It'll be a while until dinner."

"No thanks," she said. "I'm not hungry." She seemed to hesitate, then look up at me. "Stef?"

"What, babe?" I asked.

She swallowed hard, fidgeting nervously. "What's PTSD?"

I bit back a smile. "I should've known you'd be listening." I sat down, pulling out a seat for her. "Well, honey... PTSD stands for Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. It's something that can happen when you've been through something as scary as you have. It can give you nightmares and other sleep troubles, anxiety, flashbacks to the event..."

"So, you think my sister and I have it?" she interrupted.

"I don't know, love," I told her honestly. "But you both show a lot of the symptoms."

She nodded. "Do we have to go to Rita's support group?"

I put my hand on her arm, rubbing it slowly. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, sweetheart. But at least consider it, okay? It could help you out a lot, meeting other kids who have been through hard times. Sometimes, it just helps to know you're not alone."

I reached out to hug her, when I remembered something that had been in the back of my mind for the past few days. "Hold on, love. I have something for you. I meant to give it to you before." I got up and went to the junk drawer, digging through it until I found what I was looking for. "I want you to have this," I said, handing it to her.

She studied it carefully. "A cell phone?" I thought I caught a glimpse of a rare smile in her eyes.

"It's one of my old ones," I said. "But it's still perfectly good. I put you on the family plan. A sixteen-year-old girl needs her own phone. You can text your friends..."

"You mean Emma?" she asked, raising her eyebrow playfully. "I kinda only have one friend."

I held back a smile. "Hey, we're friends, aren't we?"

"Yeah," she said. "We are."

"You can text me. Anytime you want," I winked. I took the phone back, and put my number in it. "There you go."

"Wow. I've never had a cell phone before. Does it have a camera?" she asked, sliding her finger over the screen.

"It sure does," I said, showing her how to work it. "Do you like to take pictures?"

She nodded. "Yeah." She tucked her phone in her pocket, then threw her arms around me. "Thank you, Stef."

I hugged her back, tears stinging my eyes. "You're welcome, baby." I pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?"

She didn't answer, so I just hugged her tighter.

* * *

**Callie**

The house was so quiet later than evening. Too quiet, now that I think about it. Until Mariana came downstairs. "So, I'm going to Lexi's for dinner," she told Stef and Lena. "Okay?"

I looked up from my new phone curiously; I'd been playing around with it all afternoon.

"Would you care to rephrase that, Miss Thing?" Stef asked.

Mariana rolled her eyes dramatically. "May I _please_ go to Lexi's house for dinner?"

Stef and Lena looked to each other, and after a few seconds, they nodded. "Yes you may," Stef said. "As long as your homework is finished and you're home by a decent hour."

"It is, and I will," Mariana smiled. "Thanks, moms." She kissed them, then turned and went out the door.

After dinner, all hell broke loose, and the quiet evening was gone. Stef and I were clearing the table, and Lena was going over Sophia's homework, when the phone rang. "I'll get it," Lena said. She picked it up. "Hello?" Her eyes went wide with surprise. "Oh, hi Lexi."

She paused to listen, and Stef and I turned around, curious.

"You mean, she isn't with you?" Lena asked, frowning. "It's just that she told us she was going to your house for dinner. Do you know where she could be? Okay, honey. Let us know if you find out anything." She hung up and took a deep breath.

"What's going on?" Stef asked.

"Mariana's not at Lexi's. Lexi hasn't seen her all night, and didn't even know what I was talking about," Lena explained, rubbing her temples. "So where is she?"

"Call her cell," Stef instructed. Then, she turned to the stairs. "Jesus!" she yelled. "Can you come down here please?"

"She isn't answering," Lena said. "I'll try texting her."

Jesus came into the kitchen. "What's up?"

"Your sister told us she was going to Lexi's tonight," said Stef. "But she isn't there. Do you have any idea where she might be?"

Jesus shook his head. His face was worried. "I don't know."

"Are you sure," Stef asked him, narrowing her eyes.

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and he wrung his hands together. "Look, she might have gone to Ana's."

"Ana?" Stef half-shouted. "As in, your birth mother, Ana?"

He nodded, looking down. "She's kinda been seeing her. She didn't want you to know because she didn't think you'd let her if you did."

"She thought right," Stef said. "I need to go get her."

"Be careful..." Lena warned. Her face was creased with worry.

"I'll call Mike," Stef reassured her. She went out on the back porch, dialing her cell phone. I could hear her talking to Mike as she went to her car.

"Why didn't you tell us your sister was visiting Ana?" Lena asked Jesus. "You know she's not allowed to see the two of you."

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's just, it was important to her, and she begged me not to tell."

"That wasn't a secret to _keep_ from us, honey," she told him. "It was something we should have known about."

"I said I'm sorry," he repeated. "Do you think Mariana is okay?"

"I hope so," Lena said, sinking onto the couch. "But I won't be able to relax until they're home."

"I'll keep trying to call her," Jesus said, going back upstairs.

By then, my stomach was in guilty knots. I sat down, looking at the floor. "Lena?"

"Hmm?" She was rubbing her temples again.

"Um, Mariana might have mentioned visiting Ana to me a few times, too." I looked up. "I kind of forgot about it, with everything that's been going on. I should have told you guys. I'm sorry."

She ran her fingers through her curls. "Oh, honey," she sighed. "Thanks. Thanks for telling me."

"Am I in trouble?" I asked. "If I am, I understand."

"I'm very disappointed that neither you or Jesus told us what was going on," she said quietly. "But you're new to the family, Callie. You don't know about Ana's history with the twins like we do. And you've had more than enough problems of your own to worry about. I can't be too mad at you."

"I still feel like a I did something wrong, though," I said.

"We'll talk about consequences later," she told me. "Okay?"

When the phone finally rang, after what seemed like an eternity, Lena practically pounced on it. "Mike?" she said, breathlessly.

There was a long silence. Then, I heard Lena cry out. My stomach dropped to my feet. Something was wrong, really wrong. I felt panic building up inside me, until it felt like it would explode out of my chest.

Lena was sobbing when she hung up the phone. "Mama, what's wrong?" Sophia asked. Her little face was pale and scared. I went to her and hugged her to my side.

Finally, Lena set the phone down. Her hands were shaking. "Mom has been shot."

I closed my eyes. Time seemed to stand still. "No." Stef had to be okay.

**To Be Continued**


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25.

I sat in the hospital waiting room, feeling numb. We'd been sitting there, just sitting, for ages, waiting for news. All I knew was that Stef had been shot in the abdomen, and that her lung had collapsed. She was in surgery now. I'd picked up some of the story by listening to Mariana and Mike. I guess, Mariana had gone to see Ana. Ana asked her for money, something she's apparently been doing for a long time now, and Mariana got fed up with it. So she left. Mike and Stef went to Ana's house to look for her, but no one answered the door. So, they went inside. Ana and Mariana were long gone, but Ana's boyfriend was hiding in a bedroom. He shot Stef. And Mike shot and killed him.

"Are you okay?" Jesus asked me from the seat next to me.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I'm just thinking."

"I hate hospitals," he said. "You want to take a walk?"

I shrugged. "Sure." I glanced over at Sophia. She was sitting next to Lena, her head on her shoulder. She would be okay for a few minutes.

"I'm worried," Jesus said, once we were in the hall. "I feel so bad for mom."

"Me too," I nodded. All I could think about was that she was hurting and scared somewhere behind closed doors.

"Mariana feels terrible," He said. "I know she does."

"She never meant for this to happen," I told him. "She didn't know Stef would get shot."

"But she should've known to stay away from Ana," he said, shaking his head.

I sat down on a bench in the hall. "She's pretty bad news, huh?"

He nodded. "She was never a very good mother. But Mariana always loved her, no matter what she did. It's been harder for me to forgive."

I stared ahead, thinking about my initial thoughts when my foster sister first told me she was seeing her birth mom. I still couldn't imagine wanting more than Stef and Lena. Finding them was like a fairy tale for me and Sophia.

"Were our birth parents messed up too?" he asked

I snapped out of my thoughts. "No. Not really. Well, my dad had a drinking problem. But my mom was really great."

"You must miss her," he said. "Didn't she die?"

I nodded, and my eyes filled with tears. "We should get back. There might be news soon." I got up and hurried back to the waiting room.

When we returned, Lena was talking to a nurse. "Your wife is in ICU," the other woman was saying. "She's stable. You can see her now." She looked over at us kids. "Immediate family only."

"Can't Callie and I see mom too?" Sophia asked. She frowned, worried.

Lena gave the nurse a questioning look. "Callie and Sophia are our foster daughters. Are they allowed?"

The nurse shook her head. "I'm sorry. We have to keep it to immediate family for the time being."

Lena nodded, then gave us an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, girls. Can you sit down and wait? We shouldn't be long."

"Take your time," I said. "It's okay."

"I'll tell her you're here," she promised. "She'll be happy to know you're thinking of her."

"Thanks," I nodded. "Come on, Soph." I put my hand on her back and guided her to the chairs as Lena and the kids went through the ICU doors. We sat huddled together, Sophia leaning against me.

"It's not fair," Sophia said. "I want to see mom too." She sniffled, and I knew she was gonna cry. "I hate being a foster kid."

"It's not Lena's fault," I reminded her. "It's the hospital rules."

"But what if we never get to see her again?" she asked, her question hanging in the air.

My eyes stung, and I couldn't help but think about our own mom again. "We will," I assured her. "Don't think like that." But her words haunted me. I felt cold inside. I hugged her closer; we both needed someone to hold onto.

Mike must have overheard our conversation, because he came over and sat by us. "Don't cry, honey," he told my sister. "Stef is tough. She always has been. If anyone can pull through this, it's her."

"I hate guns," Sophia said, balling her fists. "I _hate_ them! They just hurt people." Tears squeezed from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

Mike smiled sadly. "I don't know if you girls remember me. But I remember you. I was there, the night your foster father was shot."

We were silent, unsure of what to say.

Finally, Sophia broke the silence. "I remember you."

"That gun didn't just hurt your foster father, did it?" he said. "It hurt you, too."

Sophia didn't answer. Maybe she didn't know what to say. I knew I didn't.

"I took a man's life tonight, too," he told her. "I did it to protect one of the people _I_-" his voice broke. "One of the people I love most in the world. Just like you did. But that doesn't make it any easier for me to live with. It never really hit me until tonight, what you've had to deal with. And I'm a grown man. You're just young girls."

"Will the hurt ever go away?" Sophia asked him.

He shrugged. "I can't say. Maybe it will. But it's gonna take time."

Sophia nodded. Then to my surprise, she reached over and laid her hand on top of Mike's. They stayed that way for a long time, like there was a silent understanding between them.

* * *

That night Lena stayed at the hospital, and Brandon drove us all home. No one wanted to be alone, so we all brought our pillows and blankets down to the living room to sleep.

I laid down and tried to close my eyes, but I couldn't fall asleep. The house felt empty without Stef and Lena. And Sophia tossed and turned next to me.

"Sissy," she whispered. "You awake?"

"Yeah," I whispered back. "What?"

"This reminds me of mommy," she said quietly.

I pulled my afghan up to my chin. "Me too."

"Is Stef going to die too?" she asked.

"No," I answered. "This family's not like ours. They're lucky." I rolled over and pulled her close to me. "Go to sleep now, baby."

"I love you, sissy," she said.

"Love you more," I whispered. "Goodnight."

I closed my eyes, but I still couldn't sleep. I'd tried to sound sure of myself for Sophia's sake, but I didn't _really_ know if Stef was going to die or not. If she did, she'd _know_ that Sophia loved her; my sister told her so every day. But I never did. She'd done so many things for me, too. She gave me a phone, she listened to my problems, she held me through my night terrors, hugged and kissed me, and called me slug-a-bug. Stef was one of my best friends in the world, my parent, and I loved her. And when she told me she loved me, I couldn't even say it back.

And I hated myself for it. I wouldn't want to live if Stef died without knowing how I felt.

I made up my mind. I had to see her.

* * *

The next afternoon, when Lena came home to rest for a while, I told her I was going to the library. Really, I took a bus to the hospital. I found the right floor and walked, kind of shyly, up to the nurse's station.

"May I help you with something?" the nurse sitting at the desk asked.

"Um, yes," I said, clearing my throat. "I'm here to visit Stefanie Adams Foster."

The nurse clicked some keys on her computer. "Are you family?" she asked me, looking up at me through the top of her glasses.

My heart raced. I nodded, looking her straight in the eye. "She's my mom."

"Room 331," she told me.

"Thank you," I said. I turned down the hall before she could ask any more questions.

Stef was propped up in bed, hooked up to wires, and monitors, and oxygen. She looked so fragile in her hospital bed. It was scary, seeing her that way. I'd always thought of her as invincible; she was the family's rock. But I took a deep breath, and went in anyway. "Hi, Stef."

She turned to look at me. The color was gone from her cheeks, and dark shadows framed her eyes, but she still managed to smile. "Callie?" she said softly. "What are you doing here, slug-a-bug?"

"I came to see you," I said. My voice wavered, and tears dripped down my face.

"Come sit with me," she said. I did, and she reached for my hand, brushing her thumb across my knuckles. "Why the tears, baby? What's wrong?"

"They wouldn't let me and Sophia see you yesterday," I said. "Because we're not family."

"You are too family," she said. "You're _my_ family."

"I lied to get in here," I told her. "I know it was wrong, but I had to see you. I have to tell you-"

"What?" she whispered. Her lips were dry and cracked. "What do you have to tell me, love?"

I squeezed my eyes shut; my tears blurred my vision. "I- I love you, Stef. I love you _so_ much. You have to know what you mean to me." I heaved a sob, and reached for a tissue.

"Sweet baby," Stef breathed. She lifted her arm a little, even though she couldn't hug me. I scooted my chair up to the bed and laid my head down. She stroked my hair with the tips of her fingers. "I know you love me," she said. "Maybe you haven't said it in so many words, but I know. And I love you too."

"I told the nurse that you're my mom," I confided. "I meant it."

She smiled, and tears sparkled in the corners of her eyes. "I've dreamed of hearing you say that." She cupped my chin with her hand. "Here. Come here. Let me give you a kiss."

I stood up and leaned down so she could reach me without straining herself, and she touched her lips to mine. "I'm so happy that you came to see me," she said, squeezing my warm hand with her ice-cold one.

"Do you need anything else?" I asked her.

She shook her head a little. "No, no. Just you being here is enough. It's what I needed."

I nodded and sat back down, laying my head down on the bed again. Stef caressed my cheek, and I closed my eyes. Even though my world was upside down, I felt more whole than I had in a long time.

**To Be Continued**


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26**.**

**Lena**

The shower and change of clothes refreshed me, but they didn't wash away the heaviness in my heart. I guess you never feel quite whole when someone you love is in the hospital, instead of with you, where she belongs. Stef was always on my mind, and I wouldn't feel better until she was healthy again and safe at home.

I walked the hospital hall until I reached the nurse's station. My spirits lifted a little when I saw that my favorite nurse was on duty; she always took the time to check on Stef and update me on her progress. "Hi, Shelly," I waved. "I'm here visit Stef."

Shelly smiled. "Of course. Your wife is certainly popular today."

Her comment confused me, but I shrugged it off. "Well, thank you." I turned and headed to Stef's room.

Stef was asleep. The pain meds she was on knocked her out. I hated to wake her up. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I just had to, so I could hear her voice before I went home for the night. I loved a chair that had somehow gotten pushed close to her bed, and leaned down to kiss her cool forehead. "Stef, baby," I whispered, stroking her hand. "Can you wake up for me, honey?"

I brushed back her hair and kissed her again, and she finally moved, opening her glassy eyes. "Callie?"

"No, baby," I smiled. "It's me. Lena."

"Where's my baby?" she asked. Her voice was think and dry. "Callie, she was just here."

"Honey, I think you were just having a dream," I said gently. "Do you need a drink of water?"

She nodded a little, so I poured her a glass from the pitcher on the bedside table. "Here you go, sweetie." I put the straw to her lips so she could drink.

"I wasn't dreaming," she said, when she was finished. She seemed a bit more coherent now. Her eyes lit up. "Callie came to visit me today. Lena, she called me mom. And she told me she loves me."

I nodded, starting to believe her. Shelly's comment made sense now, and it explained how the chair got moved, anyway.

"Don't be upset with her," Stef told me. "She just wanted to see me."

"I'm not upset," I promised. "Not at all." I could see in Stef's eyes what Callie's visit had done for her; how much it meant to her. Maybe seeing our daughter was what she needed to help her heal faster. There was more to healing than doctors and medicine.

Holding her hand, I gave her one more kiss. "Why don't I let you go back to sleep, baby? I know you're tired."

"Okay," she said. "But first, Lena, I need you to do something for me."

"Sure, honey," I nodded. "Anything."

"I want you to go to the judge and ask him for a continuation on the case," she told me. "Tell him what happened to me, and ask for more time."

"Are you sure?" I asked her.

"Yes," she said. "I can't let my babies down. I'm going to be there for our girls, no matter what."

I looked into her determined face, and tears stung my eyes. "Okay, sweetheart. I'll go first thing tomorrow. I promise." I kissed her hand, then tucked her in. "Goodnight, hon. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."

"I love you to," she said. "Goodnight."

* * *

**Callie**

I missed Stef the most at night. Even seeing her that day couldn't replace her goodnight hugs and kisses. Feeling lost, I wandered downstairs. Brandon's old guitar was laying on the living room couch, and I picked it up and ran my fingers over the strings. The house was so quiet. I strummed a few notes, filling the silence with a sad tune that I made up as I went along.

"What is that? It's pretty."

Jumping, I looked up to see Lena standing in the living room doorway. I shrugged. "Nothing. I was just messing around."

"You really have talent." She came over and sat down next to me on the couch. "Do you want to talk about anything, sweets?"

I shook my head, wondering if she knew what I'd done earlier. "No, I'm fine."

She reached over and squeezed my shoulder. "Well, if you ever do want to talk, just know I'm always here for you."

"I know," I nodded.

"I love you," she told me, lifting her hand from my shoulder to touch my cheek. She smiled a sad smile; she looked so tired.

I smiled back, biting my lip. Lena was the first person to take a chance on me and Sophia; families weren't exactly lining up to take us in, but she saw something in us that no one else did, and I could never forget that. My love for Lena came slowly; it wasn't the instant bond that Stef and I had, but it was just as strong. Lena was my mother too, and I loved her with all my heart. And I was ready to tell her so. "Lena?"

"What is it, honey?" she asked, pushing back a lock of curly hair that had fallen over her forehead.

"I just wanted to say..." I took a shaky breath, and reached up to touch the bridge of my nose. "I love you too, Mama."

Lena's eyes filled with tears, and I blushed, feeling a little embarrassed. She folded me in her arms and hugged me. "Oh, Callie." She kissed my temple and hugged me tighter. "Thank you for telling me that, angel."

"I'm not an angel," I sighed, feeling guilty. I pulled away a little. "I lied to you today." And like that, the truth spilled out. "I didn't go to the library. I went to the hospital to see Stef."

Lena laughed a little. "I know you went to to the hospital today, honey."

I furrowed my brow. "You do?"

She nodded. "Mom told me when I went back to visit her."

"And you're not mad...?" I ventured.

"I'm not thrilled that you lied and broke hospital rules," she admitted. "But seeing how happy it made mom, I wouldn't take that away for anything. Seeing you meant the world to her. And personally, I don't see what it would have hurt to let you and Sophia see your mother. The rules are very black and white, but you girls are part of the family too, just as much as the other kids are."

"I was just so scared," I confided, tearing up. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course you can," she nodded. "Anything."

"I never got to say goodbye to my mother," I said softly. "I was mad at her the night of the accident, and I-" I looked up at the ceiling, trying to stop my tears from rolling down my cheeks. "I didn't kiss her goodbye."

"Baby," Lena breathed, taking me back in her arms. "You've been holding onto that for a long time, haven't you?"

"I was worried that if Stef died, she would never know how much I love her," I said. "I didn't want the same thing to happen again."

"Mom isn't going to die, honey," she assured me. "I promise. But now I understand why this was so important to you." She planted a kiss on top of my head. "You can't change the past, Callie. I hate to think you've been hurting over what happened between you and your mother all these years. You were just a little girl. Why not let it go? She knew you loved her, baby. I guarantee that."

""I'll try," I said, leaning into her. "Thanks... Mama."

"Any time, sweetie. Like I said, I'm always here for you."

* * *

**Lena**

The next morning, I asked the kids to walk to school, and just as I promised Stef, I went to the courthouse, before the judge had a chance to get busy with any other business. His secretary looked up at me through her narrow glasses. "Can I help you, ma'am?"

"I'm here to speak to Judge Carter, please," I said politely. "My name is Lena Adams Foster."

She looked over at the glass doors across the lobby. "He's just coming in, Mrs. Adams Foster."

I followed her gaze. Perfect timing. "Thank you so much." I approached the man carefully and respectfully. "Excuse me, Judge Carter?"

He turned to me, looking the slightest bit annoyed. "Yes?"

"Please, I need to speak to you," I said. "I'm sorry to just come up to you like this, but it's very important."

He nodded. "Fine. Give me five minutes, and I'll have someone call you back to my chambers.

"Thank you, so much," I smiled.

True to his word, five minutes later, I heard his secretary call my name, and I went back to speak to Judge carter. He let me in, and I sat down across from him. "What did you need to discuss with me?" he asked.

I took a deep breath. "It's about my foster daughter, Sophia Jacob's case."

He nodded, rifling through some paperwork. "Yes."

"There's been a family emergency," I explained, trying to swallow the lump in my throat that I felt whenever I thought of Stef. "My wife has been shot," I told him. "She just had surgery, and she's recovering in the hospital. She's making progress, but there's no way she'll be well enough to attend the hearing. As you can imagine, her injury has been hard on all of us."

He nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I spoke with her yesterday," I went on. "And she asked me to come to you today and request a continuation on the case, until she's strong enough to attend, for the girls' sake. They've been through so much trauma. We both feel like they need both their mothers there with them. Please?" I help my breath, waiting for his answer.

"It's a little close to the court date to make any changes now..." he said.

"Please, your honor," I pleaded.

He shuffled his paperwork some more. "Alright. I'll grant it."

"Really?" I asked.

He nodded. "Is a month enough time?"

"A month is perfect," I said.

"I'll mail you a new court date," he promised. "Tell your wife I wish her a speedy recovery."

"I will," I smiled. "Thank you so much, sir."

**To Be Continued**


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27.

**Callie**

The day after Stef came home from the hospital, Brandon drove Sophia and I to our first group therapy session. We got there a little late, and he walked us into the building. "You guys gonna be okay?" he asked.

I looked over at Sophia. I think not having Stef or Lena bring us overwhelmed her a little. "Yeah. We'll be fine." I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

He nodded. "Okay. I'll be out in the car listening to music if you need to find me. Good luck." He gave me one of his cute, crooked smiles. I caught him smiling at me like that a lot. It always made my heart race, and then I had to remind myself that I'd sworn off boys and dating. But I'd definitely noticed how handsome Brandon was, and I liked the way he noticed me. I couldn't help but think that maybe if things were different; if he wasn't my foster brother, and I wasn't fucked up beyond repair, we could have been a thing.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"Well, see you later," he said, turning toward the door.

Rita emerged from a door and smiled. "Hi, girls. I'm glad you came to join us. Come on in. We're just getting started."

"You ready, baby?" I asked my sister.

"Yeah," she said, grabbing my hand. Rita held the door open for us, and we went in.

A bunch of teenagers sat in a crooked circle in the meeting room, talking among themselves. They quieted down when we came in. "Kids," said Rita. "These are our newest members, Callie and Sophia Jacob. I know we're all happy to have them with us." She placed a hand on each of our shoulders. "Do you girls want to tell us a little about yourselves, and why you're here?"

I felt the color drain from my face. Sophia picked at lint on her sweater, as if it consumed all her attention.

"No?" Rita smiled. "Well, that's fine. Go ahead and take these seats right here." She gestured to the two plastic chairs next to her seat and waited until we sat down.

My eyes glazed over as the group began. I touched my pocket, feeling my phone inside. My fingers itched to play with it, but I knew Rita wouldn't allow that, and would maybe even take it away. I looked around at the other kids; there were maybe ten of them. Soph was clearly the youngest in the group. The rest were closer to my age.

"Since Callie and Sophie weren't here before, I was thinking maybe we could each take a minute to introduce ourselves," Rita suggested. "Bring them up to speed. Everyone up for that?"

There were some halfhearted mumbles from the group, and then one by one, the other kids said their name and age, and talked a little bit about why they were in group. Most of them had a family member who died of cancer, or something like that. One girl's older sister died in a drunk driving accident. I felt Sophia tense up next to me as she talked about it. It hit too close to home.

Finally, the introductions circled back to us. "Girls..." Rita said gently.

I knew she wasn't going to give up. I took a deep breath. "I'm Callie, and I'm sixteen," I said quietly. Sophia was sitting stiffly, giving me a desperate look. I sighed. "And this is Sophia. She's twelve." I turned to Rita, trying to tell her how uncomfortable we were with my eyes. She must have gotten the message, because she nodded and let it go.

I couldn't tell you what the group talked about after that. I sort of tuned it out. Fifteen minutes before the session ended, Rita put a relaxation CD on for us to listen to. A woman's voice guided us through some deep breathing exercises, set to new-age-y music. Finally it was over, and she dismissed us. The other kids filtered out of the room.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Sophia told me quietly.

"Okay," I said. "Go ahead."

When I was alone, Rita approached me. "I heard from Lena that Stef was hurt," she said.

I nodded. "Yeah. She... she was shot."

Rita shook her head. "That's terrible. How's everyone holding up?"

"Good, I guess," I replied, honestly. "She's home now."

"And what about you, sweetheart?" she pressed. "I know that Stef is very special to you. You okay?"

My eyes stung, but I no tears came. "I'm fine. I- I finally told her I love her. Lena too."

Rita grinned. "That's great, honey. I'm proud of you!"

"Thanks," I said, glancing toward the bathroom door. Finally Sophia came out. "Well, Brandon's waiting for us," I said. "Bye."

"Bye," said Rita. "See you next week."

* * *

When we got home, Lena was in the kitchen, making lunch. "Do you need help with anything?" I asked her. The day before, she'd taken Brandon and I aside and told us that since we were the oldest, she's be needing us to help out a lot while Stef was recovering.

She paused. "There is something you could do, actually," she smiled. "Thank you, sweetheart." She took a glass from the cupboard and filled it halfway with water. "Stef already ate, and she's taking a nap. If you don't mind, please go up and wake her, and remind her to take her antibiotics."

"Okay," I nodded, taking the glass from her. I went upstairs and stood in the bedroom doorway, watching Stef sleep for a minute; she'd been sleeping a lot, because of the pain meds. She was laying on her back; her hips were propped up with pillows because the wound needed to be elevated above her heart for at least part of the day, and her middle was wrapped with bandages that needed to be changed regularly. She didn't look very comfortable, but at least she was home, where we could see her and hear her voice. At least she was alive. That was all that mattered.

"Stef?" I finally said, going over to the bed. She didn't wake up. I decided to get a little bolder. "Mom?" The word still sounded strange to say, and came out in a choked whisper, but it felt good. I rubbed her arm gently, and spoke up a little louder. "Mom!"

Finally, Stef's eyes blinked open. "Oh. Hi, baby," she said in a thick, groggy voice.

"How are you feeling?" I asked her.

"I've been better," she smiled. "But I'm okay."

"Mama wanted me to remind you to take your antibiotics," I explained.

"Thanks, honey," she smiled. "Could you please help me up?"

I set the glass on the nightstand and I helped her sit up. She opened the bottle of horse pills on the nightstand and swallowed one. I watched her carefully; her cheeks were flushed, and her blond hair was tangled at her neck, loose and snarled.

"Do you want me to braid your hair?" I asked her. I wanted her to have some dignity while she was recovering. She had a lot of pride, and I knew it was hard for her to let everyone help her with everything, from sponge baths to getting to the bathroom. She deserved to at least look neat and clean. "My mom used to braid Sophia's and my hair when we were sick, so it wouldn't get messy when we tossed and turned.

Her eyes lit up a little. "My mom used to do the same thing. I had really long hair when I was a little girl."

"So did I," I said. "But when I went into the system, my first foster mom cut it short, so it would be easier to take care of." I remembered being upset about losing my long hair. I cried the whole time it was getting cut, watching the hair fall on the floor.

"I would love for you to braid my hair for me," she said, reaching out to squeeze my hand.

Nodding, I got her brush and comb and some hair ties from her dresser. Then, I carefully sat behind her and started to work through the knots, as gently as possible, starting from the bottom. When her hair was smooth, I fixed it into two french braids. "There," I said, twisting the last hair tie. "Beautiful."

Stef reached up and touched her hair. "That feels so much better."

"Do you want me to let you rest now?" I asked, preparing to leave.

She frowned for an instant. "Actually, I'm feeling a little lonely. Would you mind staying for a bit?"

"No," I said. "I don't mind." I sat down on the edge of the bed. "I could read to you, or we could watch TV or something?"

"That all sounds nice, baby," she said, patting my hand. "But I'm tired. These pain meds knock me through a loop. I'd rather just snuggle with you right now."

"Okay," I nodded. "That sounds good."

She held up her arms. "Get over here and give me a hug."

Smiling, I crawled into bed beside her and gently put my arms around her. We held each other the best we could, without hurting her wound. Laying there, I rested my cheek against her chest; I could hear her heart beating in my ear, and it reminded me of how close we came to losing her, and how lucky I was to be laying next to her. My own heart filled with love for her; love that I wasn't afraid to express anymore.

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of my head. "I love you, slug-a-bug," she told me, almost as if she could read my thoughts.

"I love you too," I said, curling up a little closer. Saying it back was starting to feel more natural.

"Where's Sophia?" she asked me.

"She's downstairs, watching TV," I told her.

"That's good," she said. "Hey, today was your first day of group. How was it?"

"Weird," I admitted. "I don't like talking about personal thing to strangers."

"I know," she said. "But it's good for you, so you stick with it, slug-a-bug."

"I will," I promised. I reached up to touch my nose, rubbing the smooth bridge. "There was a girl there. Her sister died that same way our mom did."

"That's sad," Stef said.

Nodding, I stroked my nose again, resting my thumb against my upper lip.

"Why do you do that, honey?" Stef asked me.

I looked over at her. "Do what?"

"I've noticed you rubbing your nose a lot. Does it itch?"

I blushed a little. "Oh. No. It's just, um, something I've done since I was little. I used to suck my thumb and rub my nose whenever I was worried or scared."

"Aww." Stef smiled. "That's sweet."

"My dad hated it," I said, laughing a little. "He was always telling me to act like a big girl."

"I wish I could've seen you as a baby," Stef confided. "I bet you were a cutie pie. Of course, you're still cute." She pressed a kiss to my cheek. "And even if I didn't know you back then, you're still my little girl."

I had an idea just then. "Mom?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"I'll be right back, okay."

"Okay," she said.

I slipped off the bed and went to my room, then opened the closet. Behind mine and Sophia's clothes, there was a shoe box off things we took with us when we went into the system; things that hadn't been lost, or stolen, or broken. Once in a while, we looked through them, so we could remember the good memories we had, before all the bad ones began. I knew there were pictures in it somewhere.

I found the small stack of snapshots at the bottom of the box. Sitting down on the closet floor, I started to flip through them. My chest ached and my eyes filled with tears. There was a picture of me on my third birthday, sitting in a Little Mermaid bounce castle. I remembered that day. I remembered how happy I was. Of course, the next year's birthday was even better, because Sophia had been born four days before. She was the best present I ever got.

I looked at more pictures until I found the one I wanted. It was of me as a newborn, taking my first bath. I smiled, then stood up and brought it back to Stef's room. I handed it to her. "I thought you might like to see this."

She studied the picture for a long time. "Honey, is this you?"

"Yeah," I nodded, sitting down.

She smiled. "Look at all that dark hair and those chubby cheeks." I snuggled up next to her again, looking at the picture with her. "You were a beautiful baby," she told me, passing the picture back to me.

I stopped her. "No, mom. I want you to keep it."

**To Be Continued**


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28.

**Lena** **(one month later)**

Isn't it funny how the days we look forward to; Christmas, for instance, or the last day of school, seem to come so slowly. But the days we dread arrive before we know it? I remembered looking forward to things as a little girl. My father would always tell me 'be patient, the anticipation is half the fun.' And he was right. Once the big day finally arrived, it was over. No more waiting. But sometimes, you just wish for time to stand still...

A month had passed in the blink of an eye. The next day was Sophia's court date. It hung over us like a storm cloud.

"Mama?"

I was pulled from my thoughts by Sophia's voice. I dried my soapy wet hands on a dish towel. "Hi, baby. Do you want to help me finish the dishes?" When I turned around, I frowned. She was so pale. "Honey, are you okay?"

"I got sick," she said, holding her stomach. "I don't feel good."

"Oh, honey," I sighed. "Mama's here." I went over to her and kissed her cool forehead, checking for a fever. "You're not warm, baby. Is it just your tummy?"

She nodded. "I made a mess in the bathroom. I didn't get there in time. I'm sorry." Her brown eyes welled with tears that spilled down her cheeks.

"It's okay, Soph," I said, gathering her in my arms. "It was an accident. Mama will clean it up."

She hiccuped, burying her face in my chest, and I hugged her closer. Maybe I babied Sophia, but I didn't care. I think that from the beginning, Stef and I realized that Sophia and Callie were kids who needed _extra_ love; love that we were more than happy to give. I took her hands in front of me, holding them tight. "Hey, why don't you sit down at the table and drink some ginger ale, I'll go clean up the mess, and then you and I can have some snuggle time. How does that sound?"

"Good," she sniffled.

"Okay," I nodded. I poured her a drink, then went up to the kids' bathroom. When I returned, Sophia and I settled on the couch.

"Mama?" she said, looking up at me.

"Hmm?"

"I think I'm probably too sick to go to court tomorrow. Maybe we should cancel it?"

I hid a smile against her hair. "Honey, are you sure the reason you're sick isn't just because you're nervous about the trial?"

She shrugged.

"It's okay to be nervous, peanut," I told her. "Anyone would be. But won't it feel good once this is all over and done with, and you can just be a normal little girl?"

"Yes," she said. "But I'm scared. I have all these thoughts running through my head, and I can't make them stop."

I leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Which thought is bothering you right this second?"

She was quiet for a long moment. "That this might be my last snuggle time with you." A single tear dripped off the tip of her nose.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to cry myself, but in the end, I couldn't fight it. "Baby... don't think like that," I whispered. "You're not going anywhere, and neither am I. There's going to be lots more snuggles with me. You'll see."

"If I go to jail," she said seriously, "promise you won't put Callie back in the system. Please? I don't want anyone to hurt her again. She needs you and mom." Her dark eyes were wide; she watched me with a wisdom that was older than her twelve years. Older than me.

"Sophia." I turned her around to face me. "Mommy and I would _never_ _ever_ put you _or_ Callie back in the system, no matter what happens. I don't want you to _ever_ worry about that, baby. We're your family, and we love you. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, looking down into her lap. "But I still don't know if I can face the judge tomorrow."

I tilted her chin up so she would look at me. "I'm going to tell you something, Soph. I want you to listen to me." I paused, making sure I had her full attention. "You _can_ face the judge tomorrow, because you did nothing wrong. We all believe in you. Now you need to believe in _yourself_. All you have to do tomorrow is tell the truth, baby. You can _never_ go wrong by being honest. The truth _always_ comes out in the end."

* * *

**Callie**

Toss, roll, toss, turn...

I'd been laying awake for an hour, trying to fall asleep. Stef and Lena had let Sophia and I each take a long bubble bath after dinner, in their bathroom where no one would bother us. And afterward, they gave us a mug of hot herbal tea to help us relax. All that should have helped, but it didn't. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. "Sophie bug," I whispered. "Are you awake?"

I heard her roll over. "Yeah.

"I can't sleep," I told her. "Can you?"

"No," she said softly.

"Do you want to sleep in my bed?" I asked. I just wanted her near me that night. I didn't know if this would be our last night in the same place, and I wanted to be with her as much as I could.

"Alright," she said.

She got out of her own bed, crawled into mine, and snuggled beside me. As usual, her feet were cold, but I didn't mind. I covered her with my comforter and kissed her cheek. "Better?"

She laid her head against my chest and nodded. "Better."

"Sissy?" she whispered, after a few minutes.

"What, baby?"

"I talked to Mama today," she said. "I made her promise me that if I have to go _away_, they won't put you back in the system. So, you don't have to worry, in case you were."

My blood pounded in my head. I knew she was just trying to comfort me, but it wasn't working. Hearing her plan like that scared me. We'd been together since she was born, and I didn't know life without her. I didn't even want to think about it. I lay still, mute, hoping she wouldn't say anymore about it.

She _was_ quiet for a long time, and then she spoke again. "You know, I'm not that scared about tomorrow anymore. I feel... I don't know. Peaceful?"

"Peaceful?" I asked, raising my brow. Staring into the darkness, I reached up and stroked my nose. I'd been trying to be strong for my sister, I really had been. I hadn't mentioned the trial much, I hadn't cried in front of her. I'd been keeping it all bottled up tightly inside me. All that time, I figured she was as scared and confused as I was. I didn't understand how she could feel peaceful when our future was up in the air.

"Yeah," she answered. "I mean, I'm still a little scared, but knowing you'll be safe makes me feel a lot better."

I cringed on the inside. maybe I would have a place to live, but it wouldn't feel like a _home_ without her. "Thanks for looking out for me," I said.

She shrugged. "Well, you've always looked out for me." She yawned, cuddling closer. "No matter what happens tomorrow, I love you Callie."

"I love you too, Soph," I said. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

And then the room was quiet again. Even with Sophia next to me, I still couldn't fall asleep. I was afraid to close my eyes. Because when I opened them again, it would be tomorrow.

* * *

**Stef** **(The next morning)****  
**

Callie and Sophia were dressed neatly and beautifully when we walked into the courthouse. They looked as ready as they could ever be. I hoped they were as ready on the inside as they were on the outside.

We led the kids to a bench in the lobby and sat them down with us, to discuss some last minute things.

"Listen, girls," I said to Callie and Sophia, looking them in the eye. "When you go in there, the first thing that will happen is that they'll go over the details of your case. You'll be asked a lot of questions, and some of them will be really hard for you to answer. And I know that's really scary, but I want you to remember that it's super important to stay calm in front of the judge. He's not going to listen if you get all upset, okay? Show him _you_ believe you're innocent by the way you conduct yourselves. Remember to speak clearly to him, make eye contact, and address him as 'your honor.''

Sophia nodded and Callie looked down thoughtfully.

"And if you _do_ get scared," Lena added. "You can always just look at as. We'll all be there, cheering you on."

"Mama's right," Mariana smiled. "We've got your back." She gave Callie and Sophia each a hug.

"You'll be fine," I told them. "You're good girls, and anyone can see that. We believe in you, and we love you both very much." Lena and I embraced the girls and gave them kiss. And then, we prepared to enter the courtroom.

I took a few steps, and then realized Callie wasn't walking with us. "Are you okay, love?" I asked, turning around.

Callie's eyes were round and frightened. "I can't... _breath_," she gasped, holding her throat. She coughed, struggling for air. Her face was red. Suddenly, she turned and ran to the bathroom.

"Callie!" I called. "Wait!"

"I'll get her some water," Lena offered.

I nodded. "You guys stay here," I told the kids, following my daughter.

I found her leaning against the bathroom wall, hyperventilating, as tears streamed down her face. "Callie baby," I breathed, going to her. It didn't hit me until then how very hard she was taking all this. Maybe there was only so much trauma a person could take in their short life.

"Help me," she sobbed.

I reached out and put my hands on her arms. "You're having a panic attack, baby," I told her. "You have to breath." I was worried she was going to faint. She had to calm down.

I took her hand and held it to my chest. "Feel my breathing, Cal. Just follow me. In and out." I inhaled deeply, imploring her to do the same, and then I slowly exhaled. "Please, love? Breath with me?"

Finally, she inhaled shakily, and let it out, her eyes closed. "You're doing good, honey," I praised. "So good. Keep it up." I took another deep breath, trying to set a rhythm. "That's a good girl."

Lena came into the bathroom with a cold bottle of water. "How is she, honey?" Her face was creased with concern.

"Getting there," I said softly.

Lena twisted the cap off the water bottle. "Can you try to take a sip of water, sweetheart?" she asked.

Callie nodded weakly, and Lena gave the bottle to her. "I need to get back to the other kids," she told me. "Can you take it from here?"

I nodded. "I think so. Thanks, babe."

I turned back to our daughter. "Keep taking deep breaths, Callie," I said. "You're okay. Mommy's right here. I'm not gonna leave you." I wet a paper towel and rung it out. "Let's wash your pretty face." I wiped her tear-stained cheeks and forehead with the towel, and then her neck, trying to cool her down. "Try and take another drink of water."

She did, and then I set the bottle on the counter. "Come here," I said, holding my arms out for her. She hugged me tighter than she ever had before. I rocked her back and forth, letting her cry on my shoulder. The movement hurt my abdomen, and I winced a little, trying not to let the pain show on my face. "Just keep telling yourself it's only a panic attack," I whispered. "You're going to be okay."

"My chest hurts," she sobbed. "I'm scared." She clung to me, digging her nails into my back.

"I know," I told her. "Fear does crazy things to your body. But you're in control, Cal." I continued to rock her gently, trying to sooth her. "I know it's scary, but it's nothing you can't overcome."

"I don't _want_ Sophia to go away," she sniffled angrily. "She's my best friend. She's just a baby. I _need_ her with me. _My baby..._" She broke down in fresh tears.

Hugging her closer, I stilled, before she could get frantic again. "Love, Mama and I are not going to let anyone take Sophia away from you," I firmly told her. "We have a strong case. And if- and I mean _if_\- the judge doesn't rule in our favor, we'll fight it, no matter what it takes. I know you've never really had an adult fight for you, honey, but we will never give up on either of you. Not while there's air in our lungs. I promise you, Callie."

I kissed her temple, and gently stroked her back. "In the meantime, I want you to remember something. If it hasn't happened yet, it isn't true. Nothing bad has happened yet, so we have nothing to worry about. Okay?"

We stood there for a long time, as she gradually calmed down. When I saw just starting to worry that we'd be late for the hearing, she looked up from my shoulder through tear-filled eyes. "Okay."

I gave her a proud smile "Ready to go out there?"

"I think so."

I planted one more kiss on top of her head. "That's my girl." I took her hand, and we walked back out to the lobby.

When Sophia saw us, she ran over and threw her arms around her sister. "Callie, are you okay? I was so scared."

Callie pulled Sophia into a hug. "I'll be okay. You just take care of you, baby." She kissed her cheek and hugged her again. "I love you."

"I love you too, Sissy," Sophia said.

I heard the click of shoes on tile, and turned around. My heart thumped with surprise. "Lena-" I said, reaching for my wife's arm. She followed my gaze. Laura Bowen was coming toward us.

"Laura, hi," I said, managing a smile. "What brings you here?"

She looked down at her black pumps. "I had a change of heart," she said. "I'm going to tell the truth about Brian. I'm going to testify."

I was almost afraid to believe my ears. "What made you change your mind, if you don't mind me asking?"

She looked up, tears sparkling in her blue eyes. "I'm sick. I was diagnosed with cancer, a week ago. It's inoperable. I want- I want the time I have left to mean something."

"I'm so sorry," I said softly. "But thank you so much for doing this for us."

"I know what my husband did," she said. "And I know that I'm partly to blame. I allowed it to happen. You were right, Stef. I owe these girls. And I owe my own little girl. I need to make it right."

Suddenly, Laura looked past her shoulders, and her eyes filled with fresh tears. She held her hand to her mouth. Lena and I turned to see Lindsey standing in the courtroom doorway, sobbing. "Mom," she said. She came toward her mother, and Laura took her hand. And then they hugged.

My heart squeezed, and my eyes stung. Lena had tears in her eyes too. I knew that Lindsey and Laura had years of hurt to work out. It would take time. But the first step had been taken.

Now it was time for my family to take the next step toward the future. Lena took Sophia's hand, and I took Callie's. I saw Callie grab her sister's hand and squeeze it, so the four of us were linked. We glanced around at each other, then walked into the courtroom.

**To Be Continued**


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29.

**Note- I'm sorry this took so long to update! This story has really taken more research than I intended, and it's been hard to find the right words. I apologize in advance for any inaccuracies in the trial. Enjoy!**

**Callie**

The air conditioning in the courtroom was too high; my bare arms were covered with goosebumps. I rubbed them discretely, trying to warm up. Stef saw me from the corner of her eye, and slipped her arm around me.

I'd already given my testimony. They had moved on to questioning Sophia. She looked so small up there, like a doll, almost.

"Did you ever try to tell anyone about the abuse?" The ADA asked her.

Sophia shook her head. "No."

"Never?" he asked.

"No," she said again. "I thought about telling my teacher once, but I changed my mind."

I looked down into my lap, sadly. I remembered Sophia's teacher from our last school, Mrs. Luna. She was really nice, and Sophia loved her. I knew how she felt. There were times when I wanted to reach out to anyone I thought I could trust, but in the end, I didn't.

"Why did you change your mind?" he asked her.

"I was too scared," she said softly.

"What were you scared of, exactly?" he asked.

"I- I was scared that she wouldn't believe me," she told him. "I was worried she would call Brian and he'd hurt me and Callie." Her chin quivered. _Don't cry_, I silently urged. _Don't cry_.

"Did anyone ever ask you to hide what was going on?" he continued.

Sophia shrunk back in her seat. "Yes, my sister," she admitted. "She was afraid we would get separated."

"Did you ever think it would be better to take that risk than to go on living with your foster father?"

"I-" Sophia gave me a desperate look. Her face crumpled, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "I-"

I looked up at Stef, and Stef shook her head no, as if she could read my thoughts. Then I looked back at my little sister's tear-stained face. She needed me. Without giving it another thought, I tried to get up and go to her. But Stef grabbed my arm. "Callie," she whispered, giving me a sharp look. "Sit down."

Begrudgingly, I sat back down, mad at her. Finally, someone handed Sophia a tissue, and she used to it dry her eyes. After a minute, she started to calm down.

"Miss Jacob," said the ADA, looking up from his notes. "Are you able to answer the question now?"

Sophia nodded. "Nothing could be worse than losing my sister. Callie and I have always gotten through the bad things together. If we didn't have each other, we wouldn't have anything."

* * *

After Sophia was questioned, there was a recess, and the court broke up. Stef grabbed my hand and stood up. "Honey, come in the hall with me. We need to talk."

"Fine," I said, following her. She lead me to a bench near a vending machine, and I sat down. She sat next to me and took my hands between hers. "Honey, what were you thinking in there?" she asked, looking me in the eye. "Did you forget what we talked about before we went in?"

"I'm sorry," I said, swallowing against a lump in my throat. "I just... he was making her cry. She needed me."

Stef sighed. "I know, honey. You're very protective of the people you love. I'm the very same way. But disrupting the court could have cost us everything we've worked for. You don't want to piss off the judge."

"I'm sorry," I apologized again. My eyes stung and my face was hot. "I won't do it again."

"I know you wont," she said, giving me a small smile. "And luckily, there was no harm done. Just remember that sometimes, it's better to let Sophia work things out on her own. She's old enough to advocate for herself, and she did. She's growing up, love."

"It's hard," I said softly. "To let go."

"I know it is," Stef nodded. "It's hard for me to. When it comes to you kids, I'm a total Mama Tiger. I never want to see my babies get hurt. But I can't protect you kids from everything. And you can't protect Sophia from everything, either."

"I know," I said.

She held her arms out for me. "Can I have a hug?"

I smiled, and let her take me in her arms.

"I love you, baby," she said, planting a kiss on top of my head.

"I love you too, mom," I told her. "Can I go find Sophia now?"

"Of course," she said.

Sophia was standing in the hall with Lena and the other kids. When she saw me, she came to me and hugged me. "Are you mad at me?" she asked.

"Why would I be mad at you?" I asked, brushing back her hair.

"Because I told on you when he asked me if anyone ever made me hide what was going on," she said.

I shook my head. "I'm not mad, Soph. You were under oath to tell the truth." I felt a surge of guilt. "Is that why you were crying up there?"

She looked down at her shoes. "Yes," she admitted. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I reassured her, pulling her back in a hug. "It's my fault."

"You were just trying to keep us together..." she said.

I nodded. "I thought I was doing the right thing then. But we don't have to lie anymore."

* * *

The recess ended, and Mike was called to the stand. His testimony was business-like; he stated the facts, plain and simple. After he was finished, Brian's next door neighbor testified. I never even knew she noticed us when we were living there, but I guess she did. Then Lindsey testified. I admired the way she spoke; she was confident in her words. She didn't doubt herself or what she went through. I wished I could speak that way, too. But I knew it must have taken her years to get there.

At last it was Laura's turn to speak. I was most nervous about what she had to say. I took a deep breath as she went to the stand.

The judge asked her to raise her right hand. "Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?"

"Yes, Your Honor," she said, holding her hand up. Then she began her testimony. She told about her marriage, Lindsey's childhood, the abuse they went through. And finally, she told about how she brought us home, and the night she abandoned us. Part of me still hated her for it, and part of me felt sorry for her. She looked even smaller and younger than Sophia up there.

"Was there ever more than one occasion when your husband caused you to fear for your life?" he asked her.

"Yes, Your Honor," she said.

He nodded. "Do you believe that your husband was capable of causing severe injury, even death, to your foster daughters?"

She hesitated for a moment. "Yes. I do, Your Honor. He could become very violent when he was drunk."

"Did you ever hear your husband threaten to harm your foster daughters?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"I see," he said. "Do you feel that it was reasonable for Sophia to believe she had no choice but to kill Mr. Bowen to protect herself and her sister from immediate danger?"

Laura took a small breath. "Yes, Your Honor. I think- I think Sophia did the right thing."

"You do realize that you've admitted to endangering these children who were in your care?" he asked solemnly. "And that you may face criminal charges?"

Laura's blue eyes filled with tears. "Yes," she nodded, wiping her tears away. "I do."

"Thank you for your help," he said. "You may be seated."

The jury deliberated for what seemed like an eternity. And then, at long last, the judge announced, "I have everything I need to make my decision."

I sat up straighter, wiping my sweaty hands on the skirt of my dress. This was it. I turned to look at my moms. Lena reached across Stef's lap to squeeze my hand, and Stef put her arm around me.

"Sophia," said the judge said, looking down at her. "I want to apologize you and your sister on behalf of the state of California."

I sucked in my breath; I could hear my blood pounding in my ears. Why on earth would he need to apologize to us unless he was about to deliver bad news? I looked over at Stef, but her face was unreadable.

"You and Callie were victims," he said. "The system is broken, and unfortunately, it's the children involved who suffer most. The foster system failed you by placing you with an unfit family, a placement that endangered you. I am sorry."

"Th- thank you, Your Honor," said Sophia.

"You're welcome," he said. He looked out at the court. "I've reviewed the evidence and testimonies presented today, and I believe that Sophia Jacob's actions were reasonable and excusable. I rule the death of Brian Bowen, a justifiable homicide. Court is dismissed."

Insure of how to react, I turned to Stef. "Is that good?"

"It's very good," she nodded, with tears in her eyes. "We won!"

Sophia came to meet us, and Stef and Lena grabbed both of us in a hug. "I can't believe it's finally over," my sister sobbed.

"But it is," said Stef. "You're safe now, honey."

Lena nodded, smiling. "And now we can just focus on your adoption."

**To Be Continued- They did it! Yay! The worst is over. The rest of the story will cover the girls' road to adoption, learning to love and trust, and how they grow as part of the family and deal with their scars. Please keep reading and reviewing! Thanks!**


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30.

**Callie (a few days later)**

"Callie, why don't you tell me about the panic attack you had the day of the trial?" Rita asked me from her desk chair.

I flinched, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and shame. "Do I have to?" I wondered how she even knew about it, but I figured Stef or Lena must have told her.

"Well, you don't _have_ to," Rita said. "I wont force you. But I'd like to understand what happened."

I sighed, picking lint from Rita's couch. "I just got scared. I freaked out."

"Okay," Rita nodded. "What did the panic attack feel like? Can you describe it?"

I sighed. My hands suddenly felt shaky. "It felt like I couldn't breath, like there was something heavy on my chest. My throat was tight, and my legs felt like jelly. And I felt hot all over."

Rita nodded again. "What did it feel like in your head? What were you thinking?"

I thought her question over for a moment. "I don't remember."

"Just do the best you can," Rita said. She took a piece of cinnamon gum from a pack on her desk, then held out the pack to me. "Want a piece?"

"Thanks." I took a piece and chewed it, and the hot-sweet taste filled my mouth. "I felt... it's hard to describe. I guess, like I didn't have control over anything. Like I was in a nightmare. Sort of." I felt tears prick my eyes, and I tried to squeeze them back in.

"Feeling out of control can be scary," Rita nodded, scribbling something in her notebook. "I bet you felt the same way the night Brian was killed."

"Yeah," I nodded. "I guess so."

"How did you come down from the panic attack?" she asked me. "How long did it take?"

"Ten or fifteen minutes," I shrugged. "Stef... mom... helped me. She washed my face and talked to me. She hugged me and told me to breath."

"That's very good," said Rita. "She did the right thing." She glanced up at her clock. "Okay, honey. Your time's up. Do you have any questions for me?"

"No," I said.

"Then we'll talk more about this next week," she said. "Come on. I'll walk you out. I need to talk to your mom for a minute."

* * *

**Stef**

"I win again," said Sophia, smiling triumphantly.

"You're way to smart for this old lady," I laughed, ruffling her hair. We'd been playing Candy Crush together in the waiting room, while we waited for Callie to be done with her appointment with Rita.

Sophia handed me my phone, and I started my turn, just as Rita and Callie emerged from Rita's office."Mrs. Foster?" Rita asked. "I'd like to speak to you if you have a minute."

"Of course," I said. I passed my phone back to Sophia. "You know what, love? You play this round for me, okay?"

"Okay," she said.

I stood up, and crossed the room. Callie's face was pale, and her eyes were red. I reached out and gave her a quick squeeze. "I'll be right out, love. Go ahead and sit down." I pressed a kiss to the side of her head before she could walk away.

"Is everything okay?" I asked Rita, as she ushered me into her office. I took a seat, crossing my legs in front of me.

"Everything is fine," she assured me. "It's been a pleasure getting to know Callie and Sophia. I just wanted to let you know that based on what I've observed of them, and what they've told me, I feel like I can safely diagnose the girls with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

A strange feeling washed over me, a sense of relief mingled with grief. "I thought as much," I nodded.

"You have good instincts," Rita told me.

"I've read about it," I told her. But what's more, a mother just knows those kinds of things. I could see it in their eyes. I saw it in Sophia just the night before, when she'd walked in on Jesus playing a violent video game with graphic shooting, and froze in fear. I saw it in Callie when she woke up, screaming, in the middle of the night. That haunted look. Maybe it _was_ instincts?

I closed my eyes for a moment, and a tear slid down my cheek.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, grabbing a tissue from the end table beside me.

"Don't be," Rita said. "It's understandable. You love your daughters. You want what's best for them." She shuffled through some notes. "We used to think PTSD was specific to soldiers who'd been affected by war. Now we know that all kinds of traumatic experiences can trigger it. For Callie and Sophia, every day was like fighting a war, just to survive. And those memories are hard to forget."

"What can we do for them?" I asked, as fresh tears sprung to my eyes. "Lena and I are willing to do whatever it takes to help them."

"I'll continue working with them," Rita told me. "We'll work on cognitive therapy, and finding coping skills. There's medication, but they're so young. It seems to me that you're already giving them what they need at home; patience, support, and love."

"We try to always find the time for them," I said. "I just wish we had _more _time. But we have three other kids, with problems of their own, and our jobs..."

"Don't worry," Rita assured me. "From what I've seen, you and your wife are doing a remarkable job with Callie and Sophia. I've never seen such a strong bond between kids and foster parents."

"That's good to hear," I smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Rita nodded. "And if you have any more questions, feel free to contact me."

* * *

"Is everything okay?" Callie asked, watching me suspiciously, as I cam from Rita's office. "You've been crying."

I sat down between the girls and gathered them close to me. "Everything's fine, my babies," I reassured them. "Don't you worry."

"Are you sure everything's alright?" Callie pressed. "You're worrying me, mom."

"We'll talk in the car," I told them, as another family came into the waiting room.

I led them out of the lobby, and we found our car in the parking lot. When we were locked inside, I turned around in my seat. "Callie, love, do you remember when we talked about the possibility of you and your sister having Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Why?"

"Well," I said. "Rita believes that you do have it.

"What's Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?" Sophia asked me.

"I'll explain it the best I can, honey," I told her. "It's a psychiatric disorder that sometimes happens when a person's been through something traumatic. That scary feeling just doesn't go away for some people, even once they're safe. It's the reason why you feel so afraid when you see Jesus's video games, or hear a loud noise. And why Callie has her sleep troubles and panic attacks."

"Does it mean we're crazy?" Sophia asked me, her voice trembling.

"No, baby," I said. "Not at all. You're both perfect. It's just an obstacle in your lives that Mama and I, along with Rita, are gonna help you through."

She nodded. "Will we get better?"

"Yes," I promised. "It might take some time. But I believe love can heal anything."

* * *

"Oh good. You're home," said Lena, when we came in the door. "I need to talk to you."

"I need to talk to you too," I told her. The girls had already gone off to their room. Lena and I sat down together in the living room.

"You go first," Lena offered. "My news might take a while."

I told Lena about the girl's diagnosis, trying to remember all of what Rita had said.

"Poor babies," Lena mussed. "How did they take it?"

"Not too bad, actually," I said. "I'm not sure Soph completely understands it all. Callie was mostly worried about me." I sighed. "No one ever said being a parent is easy."

"But it's sure rewarding," Lena smiled.

"So, what's your news?" I asked her. "Tell me."

"I got a call from Bill," she said. "There's one hitch in the adoption. It seems that Callie and Sophia's father still has parental rights. They've located him, though, and they'll be serving him with abandonment papers to sign. But Bill also mentioned the girls having an opportunity to see him again first."

"In prison?" I asked. "I don't know, Lena."

"That's the thing," she went on. "Stef, he was released from prison almost a year ago."

I let the news sink in, my jaw tightening. "So, he's been out of prison all this time, and he's never tried to contact them?"

"We don't know that for sure," Lena said. "I was hoping Callie could give us more information about him. Sophia was so little when he had to leave. But Callie was ten."

"I'll get her," I said, getting up. I went to the stairs and called for our daughter.

"What?" she asked, coming to the top of the staircase.

"Can you come down, love?" I asked. "Mama and I need to talk to you about something."

"Sure," she said, hurrying down. "What's up?"

**To Be Continued**


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31.

**Stef**

"What's going on?" Callie asked, searching our eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"No, sweetheart," Lena assured her. "Not really." She reached out and squeezed Callie's knee. "Honey, I talked to Bill today. He had some news about the adoption."

Callie's eyes widened. "We're not getting adopted, are we?"

"No, I didn't say that," said Lena, patiently.

"Why don't we let Mama say what she has to say?" I suggested. I gave Callie a reassuring wink, and she seemed to relax a little.

"Callie," Lena went on. "It's like this. Bill told me that for some reason, your birth father's parental rights were never terminated when he went to prison. But they've located him, and they're going to be sending him the papers to sign. Once he signs them, we'll be able to legally adopt you and Sophia."

"Oh," she said, letting out a deep sigh of relief. "Okay."

"There's a little more," Lena told her. "Honey, Bill wanted to know if you and Sophia would like to see your father before he signs away his rights to you."

"It's completely up to you, whether or not you want to see him," I told her. "No one is going to force you. But in the meantime, we're hoping you could give us some more information. What do you remember about him, love?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Was he a good father?" I asked her, searching her eyes.

Callie looked at me questioningly. "He never hurt us, if that's what you mean."

I nodded, relieved. "Good. That's good."

"I mean, he wasn't father of the year or anything," she explained. "He drank, and he wasn't around much. But he wasn't some terrible person." She smiled sadly. "We weren't really that close. Sophia was his favorite. She was a total daddy's girl. She took him going away really hard."

"Has he ever tried to contact you girls?" Lena asked her.

She shrugged again. "I used to write to him, but he stopped writing back. I guess he just didn't care anymore, so I gave up."

"Sweetheart," my wife said. "Did you know that your father is out of prison?"

"No," Callie replied, genuinely surprised. "Did he just get out?"

Lena turned to me, and we shared a worried glance. I sighed, knowing my wife was hoping I'd break the news to our daughter. "No, baby," I finally said, gently. "No. It seems he was released nearly a year ago."

Her face fell, and she looked down into her lap. "Oh."

There was an uncomfortable silence, until Lena cupped Callie's chin in her hand, forcing her to look at us. "Honey," she said softly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I'm fine."

"How do you feel about seeing him?" I asked her. "Is that something you think you might want to do?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to see him." She looked to each of us. "Can I be excused now?"

"Go ahead, sweetheart," said Lena.

Callie stood up and gave each of us a quick hug, then went upstairs.

"She is _not _fine," my wife said, once our daughter was out of earshot.

"I know," I agreed, pulling Lena into the hollow of my arm. "Poor kid. As if today hasn't been hard enough. Then hearing this... it's like he left her all over again."

"Do you really think he stopped caring about them?" she wondered.

"I don't know," I sighed, twisting one of Lena's springy curls around my finger. I couldn't imagine _ever _stopping caring about my babies, no matter what my life situation was. Those five kids made life worth living. "It could be that he _has_ tried to find them," I offered. "They've been shuffled around so much."

"What if he wants them back?" Lena asked, massaging her temple with her fingertips.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," I sighed, standing up. "But in the meantime, I better check on her."

* * *

I went upstairs, and on a hunch, I passed Callie and Sophia's door and went straight to Lena's and my bedroom. Sure enough, Callie was curled up in our bed, her face buried in my pillow.

"Hi, slug-a-bug," I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. I touched my fingers to her head, smoothing back a tendril of dark hair. "Today has been pretty tough, huh?"

She lifted her head up slightly to look at me. "I'm sorry I came in here without asking. I just needed some space."

"I don't mind if you come in here," I told her. "You're always welcome, love. Do you want to talk about anything?"

She shook her head no.

"Okay," I nodded. "But if that changes, you know I'm here for you. I'll leave you alone now."

"You can stay," she said softly. "If you want to, I mean."

I smiled, giving her hair one more stroke. Callie never came right out and said what she wanted or needed, but most of the time, I could read between the lines. "Would you like me to lay down with you for a little while?" I asked.

"Okay," she nodded, her face still half-buried.

I settled myself in next to her, and held my arms out. "Come here, baby." Finally, she unglued herself from my pillow, and I wrapped my arms around her. I pressed my lips to her cheek and gave her a kiss. "I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too," she said, rubbing the tip of her nose. She was quiet for a long moment. Then, her voice piped up. "I hate him."

"Honey, you don't mean that," I breathed. My heart ached with sympathy. I knew how it felt to be hurt and let down by my father. Heck, I could practically write a manual on it.

"Yes, I do," she said. "Everything that happened to us is his fault. First he killed our mom, and then he got out of prison, and didn't even bother to call. If he'd come for us, we wouldn't have been hurt so bad." Her face crumpled, and tears spilled down her cheeks. She looked away from me in shame. "I hate that he can make me feel this way."

"Tell me what you're feeling," I said. Her hair, which was always just a little messy, was starting to become tangled. I gently worked the knots out with my fingers as I waited for her to open up.

"I'm scared," she admitted. "If our own father can turn his back on us, how do I know you guys wont too?"

I paused, my hand dropping. "Callie..." I breathed. "Oh, honey. Do you know how much Mama and I _love_ you?"

"Our dad loved us once too," she argued. "And he stopped."

Instinctively, I pulled her closer, resting my chin on top of her head, and I held her tight. "You know, honey, just now, when the three of us were talking downstairs, I was thinking, 'I can't imagine ever leaving my babies.' And I really cant. Most of the time, I feel like I have five separate hearts running around outside of me. It's you kids."

Callie looked up from my chest briefly. There was a hint of curiosity in her eyes.

"I don't know your father's reasons for staying away," I told her. "Only he does. But Mama and I will always be there for you and your sister. When we go before the judge and adopt you, we'll be making a promise to love and care for you for the rest of our lives."

I dried her tears with my sleeve and kissed the top of her head. "I know it's hard for you to trust in anyone, but you _can_ trust in us. And you can take that to the bank, my love."

Callie let out a gush of breath, and her finger went back to her nose, stroking it slowly to calm herself.

"I don't have such a good relationship with my father either," I admitted. "So, in a way, I do understand what you're going through."

She sniffled softly. "What happened?"

I looked toward the ceiling, and tears stung my eyes. "My dad and I were quite close when I was a little girl. We both liked baseball, we had the same sense of humor, and I inherited his sweet tooth. But when I got to be around Sophia's age, and realized I was different, things changed between us."

"He didn't want you to be gay," she guessed.

I nodded. "He doesn't approve of my marriage, or the way I raise you kids, and we've said some hateful words to each other. I try to tell myself that I don't need him in my life, but deep down, I do love him, and I want him to love me. I'm a part of him, like you're a part of your father. In your heart, I'm sure you still love your dad, too."

"Yeah, I guess so," she said. "But it doesn't change the fact that he let us go through hell over the last year."

"He probably didn't know," I reminded her. "Most people don't really know how hard life can be for kids in the system. Maybe he can't provide for you right now, and he thought you were better off where you were?"

She snorted a little.

I paused a minute, planning how to word my next thought. "It's also possible that he hasn't forgiven himself for what happened to your mother. That must be something that's very hard to live with. I can't imagine the guilt he must feel."

"You think that's why he's stayed away?" she asked me. "Because he feels guilty?"

I nodded. "You've seen how Sophia's struggled with taking a life. But imagine if the other person was someone you loved."

She shook her head, as if pushing the thought away. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I'm tired."

I believed her; it had been a long, stressful day, even before the situation with her father surfaced. And she was still barely sleeping at night as it was. "Then lay down," I told her. "Close your eyes. I'm right here." She did, and I sat with her, rubbing her back in slow circles until she fell asleep.

* * *

**Callie**

I woke up in my moms' bed, covered with a blanket that hadn't been there before. The room was dark. Rolling over, I looked at the glowing clock radio on the nightstand. It was seven-thirty, and my stomach was growling.

Stretching, I rolled out of bed and went downstairs. The kitchen light was on. Stef and Lena were standing at the sink, doing dishes, talking quietly. I cleared my throat, to let them know I was there.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," Lena smiled. "Did you have a good nap? You slept straight through dinner."

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I didn't realize..."

"Don't worry about it, babe," Stef interrupted. "You needed it, and we didn't have the heart to wake you up."

"There's a plate for you in the microwave," Lena told me. "We managed to save you a piece of chicken before the boys got to it."

"Miracle of miracles," Stef laughed. "Those boys will eat anything that isn't tied down."

I nodded. "Thanks." I got the plate from the microwave and took it to the table.

"Callie," Lena sighed, as I began to slowly eat my dinner. "Mom and I have been thinking. Are you sure you won't even consider seeing your father? We just don't want you to regret it one day."

I set down my fork and shook my head. "I'm sure. I just want to put the past behind me. I don't think Sophia should see him either." I knew my sister would want to see our dad, but I didn't want her to get hurt again if things didn't work out, and he really had abandoned us. It was better just to leave things alone. Nothing good ever came from digging up the past.

"Now, honey, that's not fair," Stef told me. "I know you're just trying to protect her, and like we said, nobody is going to force you to go, but Sophia should at least have the option."

I looked down at my plate, my appetite suddenly gone. "I know. You're right."

"We haven't said anything to her yet," Lena said. "But we can talk to her about it, and if she wants to meet with him, we'll set something up."

"Can I be the one to talk to her?" I asked. Sophia and I always went through tough times together. I never wanted that to change. "Please?"

Stef and Lena looked at each other and finally nodded. "Yes, honey," said Stef. "Of course you can. But remember. It's her choice."

I nodded. "I know."

* * *

Sophia was laying on her bed, looking at the picture book of Hansel and Gretel that I'd given her. She seemed sad; she didn't even notice me come into the room.

"Hey, beautiful," I said, getting her attention.

"Hi," she said, looking up.

"Can we talk about something?" I asked, closing the door behind us and sitting down on my bed.

My sister watched me suspiciously. "Something's going on, isn't it?"

I frowned, wondering how much she really knew. "What do you mean?"

She sat up and set her book down. "Mom and Mama were acting nervous at dinner. They would hardly look at me. And you weren't there. It was weird." She studied me through dark, wet eyes. "They're sending us back, aren't they?"

"What?" I said. "Sophia, why do you think that?"

She shrugged. "Maybe they decided they don't want us anymore, because of our PSTD."

_"PTSD," _I corrected her. "And that's not true, Sophie bug. Moms aren't going to send us back. They love us."

"Then what's going on?" she asked.

I patted my bed. "Come sit by me." She moved to my bed and sat down across from me, her legs folded under her. When she was all settled, I took a deep breath. "Look, Soph. Bill talked to Mama today. He wants to know if we want to see our dad before he signs away his rights to us."

"We can see daddy?" she asked. Her eyes lit up. "When?"

I shrugged. "Nothing's been set up yet. I don't even know if I'm going to see him."

"Why not?" she frowned. "We haven't seen him in so long."

"There's something you don't know," I told her. My heart felt like it was made of lead. "Honey, dad got out of prison a year ago. And he's never even called us. Not even once to let us know." I took her hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry, but that's the truth."

Sophia's face fell. She was so quiet; only the sounds of our breathing and the hollow sound Brandon pounding on his keyboard in the next room filled the awkward silence.

"Soph, are you okay?" I asked.

She sniffled and looked up. "Maybe he got hit on the head and doesn't remember us?" she said. "Or maybe he's been trying to find us, but just didn't know where to call?"

"Maybe," I said. But I didn't hold much hope. Her first theory only happened in movies or soap operas. And it occurred to me that if he really wanted to find us, there were ways; through the CPS, or with our social security numbers. But I didn't say this to my sister. Instead, I said, "I just don't want you to get your hopes up."

"I'm not," she said. "But I do want to see him."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," I told her. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I don't care," she persisted. "I'm going. You can't change my mind."

I sighed, knowing what I had to do. I couldn't protect her if I wasn't there. I reached out and hugged her. "Okay. Then if you're going, I'm going too."

**To Be Continued- obviously, the line about Stef's five separate hearts was borrowed from the show. It's my favorite line that's ever been spoken on The Fosters, so i just had to use it here!  
**


	32. Chapter 32

**Note: I haven't given up on this story. Don't worry! I've just been busier than usual, but I promise, there are more chapters coming!**

Chapter 32.

**Callie**

"Can I please have some juice?" Sophia asked, trying to raise her voice above the breakfast table chaos.

"Nope," Brandon teased, sliding the bottle closer to himself. "Sorry."

"Seriously, give it to me," my sister laughed, reaching for it. "Brandon!"

"Brandon, just give it to her!" Mariana said, rolling her eyes and taking the juice bottle from her brother. "Here, Soph."

"Thanks," she smiled, pouring herself a glass. I could tell she was happy. More and more, Jesus, Brandon, and Mariana were starting to feel like our real siblings. The teasing was worth it, just to feel like we belonged.

"Can you guys please quiet down a bit?" Stef asked, coming into the kitchen. "Mama's on the phone in the next room."

"Sorry," I apologized, even though I hadn't really done anything.

"Thanks, Bill," Lena said into the phone, as she wandered into the kitchen. She balanced the phone against her ear as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "I understand."

Sophia turned to me with a scared look on her face. I couldn't wait for the day when she didn't have to be afraid of bad news from a social worker anymore. Hopefully, someday soon, we would never have to worry about that kind of thing again. All we had to do was get over this hurdle with our father. Then we'd be free.

I gave my little sister a nod, silently telling her not to worry.

"Yes, I'll ask them," Lena said. "Thanks again. You have a good day, too. Bye." She turned the phone off, then came to the table. "Callie, Soph, that was Bill," she told us, as if we didn't already know. "He had some news about your dad."

"What's up?" I asked.

Lena turned to Stef. "Why don't we go into the living room and talk."

Stef nodded, and we followed them into the living room. Once we were seated on the couch, she smiled. " Bill has spoken to your father about the possibility of visiting with you two."

"What did he say?" Sophia asked. Her anxiety was already replaced with excitement.

"Well," she replied. "He wants to see you girls. Bill wanted to know how you feel about seeing him this Friday, after school."

Friday? "But today's Wednesday," I piped up. "I didn't think it would be so soon."

"We could reschedule for another day if you're really not ready, honey," Lena assured me. "It's up to you."

"Please, Callie," Sophia pleaded. She wasn't doing it on purpose, but she was giving me the sad puppy dog eyes. How could I say no to her when she was looking at me like that?

I chewed my lip thoughtfully. I guess, if I had to see him, I was as ready as I'd ever be. "Friday's fine. I'd rather just get it over with. I mean, the sooner we see him, the sooner he can sign the papers and we can get adopted, right?"

"Thanks," Sophia smiled. I patted her leg reassuringly.

"Okay," Lena said. "I'll let Bill know. In the meantime, we'd better get going. We don't want to be late for school."

"Cal?" Stef called, as I got up to follow my sister and Lena.

I stopped. "Yeah?"

She reached out to squeeze my shoulder. "I know you're not thrilled about seeing your dad, love," she said quietly. "I just want you to know that I'm proud of you, for doing this for Sophia. You're a good big sister."

"Thanks," I said softly, looking into her eyes. It felt good, knowing that someone was proud of me. That was something that didn't happen very often. It meant even more, hearing it from her.

Stef winked and held her arms out for a hug. "You have a good day, baby," she said. "Study hard and try not to stress too much."

"I won't," I promised. "Thanks, mom."

She planted a kiss on my cheek before she let me go. "I love you, Callie."

"I love you too," I told her, grabbing my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder. I turned, following the rest of my family to the car.

* * *

I tried not to stress. I really did. But when Friday came, I awoke with a knot in my stomach, after a restless sleep. It stayed with me while I dressed and brushed my teeth, slowly, trying to make the morning go by slowly as possible. It stayed with me when I finally made my way downstairs to the table. The day of our father's visit had come. there was no more stalling.

"Are you okay?" Brandon asked me, as I sat down next to him, and poured myself a bowl of cereal.

"Yeah," I said, stirring my breakfast into a mushy mess. "I'm just not very hungry."

"Today's the day you see your dad," he said. "Are you nervous?"

"Yeah, a little," I admitted. "It's just weird, seeing him after all this time."

"I kinda get what you're going through," he told me. "My dad didn't come around much after he and mom got divorced. It was hard. But I guess that's not really the same thing." He sighed. "You know we're all here for you, right?"

I smiled a little, glancing up. "I know. Thanks, Brandon."

Just then, Sophia wandered into the kitchen and served herself some cereal.

"Whoa. What happened to your hair, kid?" Jesus asked, jokingly.

I glanced over at her at my sister as she touched her fingers to her hair. She's styled it in something resembling a french braid, but it was crooked and uneven, with hairs pulling loose from it. Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "I just wanted to try something new."

"Leave her alone," Mariana said to her twin. She turned to Sophia. "I can fix it for you, Soph. I'm good at styling hair."

"Really?" she smiled. "You'd help me?"

"Sure," said Mariana, hopping out of her chair. "What are sisters for?"

"Thank you, Mariana," said Stef, looking up at her approvingly. "That's very nice of you."

Mariana waved her hand. "No problemo." She put her bowl in the sink. "Come on. You too, Callie."

Sophia hopped up from her chair. "Thanks, Mariana!"

When we got to the bathroom, Mariana held the door open, grandly. "Step into my office."

We did, and immediately, she began taking out my sister's tangled mess of a braid, and brushing out her chestnut waves. "I can do really good french braided pigtails," she said, as she worked. "Do you want me to do them in your hair?"

"Yes, please," Sophia smiled, practically bouncing on her heels.

I sat down on the edge of the bathtub, feeling a teeny pang of jealousy; Sophia was _my_ sister, and I was used to her depending on me for everything. It felt weird seeing her bond with Mariana. But then, I remembered the cold welcome Mariana had given us when we first arrived at the Fosters' house, and I felt a lot better; at least she was trying to be sisterly now. If Mariana could learn to share her moms, I could share my sister.

"Today is a really important day," Sophia told us, as Mariana combed some hair gel through her hair. "I want my hair to look extra nice for daddy."

"Don't worry," our foster sister promised. "You'll look beautiful."

"Good," she breathed. Suddenly she cried out. "ouch!" She reached back to rub the back of her head.

"Sorry," Mariana apologized. "I didn't mean to pull. You had a tangle."

As Mariana parted and braided Sophia's hair, my sister stood still, studying her reflection. I watched Mariana work from behind, carefully grabbing thin, even pieces of hair and weaving them into the braids. I had to admit that they looked great, better than anything I could do.

"Done," Mariana finally announced, stepping back. "Do you like it?"

Sophia grinned broadly, taking a look at herself. Mariana held a mirror up behind her so she could see the back of her head. "I love it!" She threw her arms around our foster sister and hugged her. "Thanks!" She turned to me. "Do you like it, Callie?"

"Yeah," I said. "It looks great!"

"Do you think daddy will like it?" she asked.

I put my hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead. "I'm sure he will, if he comes."

"He'll come," she assured me.

"Soph, I just don't want you to..."

"I know, I know," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Don't get my hopes up."

Her face fell a little, and my heart tugged with guilt. I looked up at Mariana, who was standing behind Sophia. She nodded to me, silently telling me that I was right. She knew about being disappointed by parents, maybe more than we did. "I just don't want you to be sad if this day doesn't go exactly the way you planned," I explained.

"I know," she said quietly.

"And whatever happens," I added, "just don't forget who's been there for us and loved us. Moms have stood by us through a lot. Okay?"

"Okay." she nodded.

Stef tapped on the bathroom door then, and peeked in. "Time to head out, my babies. Get a move on!"

"We're coming," said Mariana. Before we left the bathroom, she turned to me. "I really hope he shows up," she whispered.

I nodded. "Me too."

* * *

School seemed especially long and boring that morning, mostly because I couldn't focus on anything. Several times, a teacher had called me out for not paying attention. So, when the bell for lunch rang, I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, I could just be alone with my thoughts.

I stepped out into sunshine and wandered around the side of the school. I could hear the ocean in the distance. Sometimes, I forgot that I lived so close to the beach, and went to school right on it. It was funny, because I loved the beach when I was little. I smiled, remembering how mom would take Sophia and I for picnics. We'd hold hands at the edge of the sand, and jump over the waves. I closed my eyes for a moment. I could almost see Sophia's chubby toddler legs, mom's long legs, and and my skinny ones, all lined up, the warm, foamy water lapping against us. I could almost hear us shrieking and laughing. Mostly, I remembered how tiny I'd feel, looking out at the water. I was hardly even a speck of sand compared to that hugeness.

I found a bench on a spot shaded by the school building, and I sat down and opened my lunch bag. Tucked inside was a note. I unfolded it, and read it to myself. "Have a good day, Callie. Love you, Mama." I pushed the note back into the paper bag and took out an apple, shined it on my shirt, then bit into it, sitting back to people-watch.

I could see Sophia in the distance. I recognized the french braided pigtails and Mariana's hand-me-down blue jacket. The sleeves were too long, and hung down past her hands. Sophia's science class sometimes met outside, and that's what they were doing today. They seemed to be working in pairs. Sophia and her friend Taylor sat together, their heads bowed down over their work.

"What'cha looking at?"

I practically jumped out of my skin, and turned to see Emma standing over me. "Oh. Hey."

"I didn't mean to scare you," she said, giggling. "I haven't see you in a while. Can I sit down?"

"Yeah," I said, moving over to make room for her.

Sitting beside me, Emma followed my gaze past the courtyard. After a long silence, she spoke up. "So, are we supposed to be looking at something specific?"

"I'm just watching my sister," I told her, pointing her out. "Over there, in the blue jacket."

Emma squinted, trying to see her better. "She's cute," she nodded. "Why are you watching her?"

I shrugged. "I'm just kinda worried about her. She- _well, we_-, kinda have a lot going on right now."

"Do you want to talk about anything?" she asked, turning back to me.

"Nah," I quickly answered, sorry I'd said too much. "I'm good."

"Nothing personal," she said. "But you just don't make it easy to get to know you. Don't you want to be friends?"

"Yes," I said, defensively. "I _do_ want to be friends. I've just had a lot on my mind lately." I felt bad. I didn't mean to seem unfriendly to Emma, but I guess I had been distant lately. I couldn't remember the last time we'd talked. It had to be before the trial.

"Well, I'm here for you, if you ever want to talk," she told me. "That's what friends are for."

I'd never had a real friend before, other than my sister. We never stayed in one school long enough, and even then, my classmates tended to avoid the weird new girl. I realized then, that maybe I _did_ need a friend. It would be nice to have someone to talk to who wasn't so close to the situation. But I just couldn't let myself open up. "It's just hard to talk about," I mumbled.

She put her hand on my shoulder for a second. "Well, whatever it is, you can trust me. I wouldn't tell anyone."

I looked down at the apple in my hand. Where I'd taken a bite from it, the flesh was turning brown, like a bruise. Sighing, I stuffed it back in my lunch bag. "I'm seeing my dad today. For the first time in six years."

"Are your parents divorced?" she asked quietly. "Mine are."

I shook my head. "My mom is dead. My dad's been in prison. He got out a while ago." I searched her pale blue eyes for any sign of judgement, but I didn't see it. And I was usually pretty good at reading people.

"That's tough," she said.

I nodded. "Yeah. But in some ways, his coming back into our lives is even harder."

"How so?" she asked.

I explained to her about the adoption, and the papers I desperately wanted him to sign, and Sophia's sky-high hopes for our reunion with him. "I'm just afraid she'll get hurt again," I told her. "She doesn't remember him like I do. She was so little when he left." I was old enough to remember the dance recitals he didn't show up to, the broken promises he'd made, and the things we had to go without because of his drinking. There was no doubt in my mind that he loved us, but he wasn't the perfect father my little sister remembered.

"I think all you can do is be there for her," Emma said at last. "You can't control what other people, like your dad, do. But at least, if he lets her down, she'll still have people who love her to fall back on."

"That's true," I said, as the bell for 6th period rang.

"Can we talk again sometime?" she asked me. "Maybe hang out after school?"

I nodded. "I'd like that."

Emma tossed her empty lunch bag in the garbage, then hurried into the school. Once she was gone, I turned back to look for Sophia. She was standing now, silhouetted against the ocean. She looked so damn small.

**To Be Continued**


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33.

**Callie**

I checked my phone again. Our father was now twenty-five minutes late.

"He could've gotten stuck in traffic," Lena said calmly, glancing over at me. "I'm sure he'll be here any minute."

The phone rang. "I'll get it," Stef said, hurrying into the kitchen.

Lena pushed a plate of homemade cookies toward Sophia. "Have a snack, honey. Just in case we have to wait a little longer."

Sophia shook her head. "No thanks. I'm not hungry." She turned to me. "Does my hair still look good?"

"Yeah," I nodded, managing a smile, even though my doubts about my father's visit were growing. "It looks great, Soph."

I hear Stef hang up the phone, and she came back into the living room. Her face was drawn, and she didn't even have to speak for me to know that something was wrong. She cleared her throat, then came over to us. "Callie, Sophia," she said, hesitantly. "That was Bill on the phone."

"He's not coming, is he?" Sophia asked. Her voice was squeaky, the way it always was when she was going to cry.

Stef sighed deeply, and I could see the pain in her eyes as she struggled to face my little sister, her daughter. "I'm so sorry, lovey," she said. "I don't know what to tell you. He can't make it today."

A lump rose in my throat. I forced myself to swallow, and reached for Sophia's hand, but she pulled it away. "You don't have to say 'I told you so,'" she said. Her face crumpled, and she burst into tears. She hopped up and raced toward the stairs.

"Sophia!" I called after her. "Wait!" I started to stand up, but Stef sat down beside me and put her arm around my shoulder.

"Let her go, honey," she she said softly. "She's hurting righting now."

"I wasn't going to say 'I told you so,'" I said. "I would _never_ say that to her."

"I know, baby," Stef said, soothingly. "I know. And I think Sophia knows that too. Sometimes, when you're angry, you take it out on the people you love most." She pulled me close to her chest and kissed the side of my head. "And how are you, love? Are you okay?"

"_I'm_ fine," I said. "I don't care if I ever see him again. I'm just worried about Sophia." I slipped out from Stef's arm. "I have to go talk to her." Before my moms could protest, I hurried to our room.

"Soph?" I said, opening the door. "It's me, baby."

Sophia was sitting by the window, crying. She'd taken her cute french braids down, and her hair hung in tangled strings, stiff from the hair gel. My heart hurt as I quietly went to sit down beside her; seeing her cry always made me want to cry. "Soph?"

"Go away," she said. "I don't want to talk to you!"

"Hey," I said softly. "Don't be like that." I place my hand on her back, and she pulled away again. Tear stung my eyes. "Sophia, why are you mad at me?"

She sniffled, still refusing to look at me. "Because you were right, okay!"

I leaned down and rested my cheek against her shoulder. "I didn't want to be right," I whispered. "I wanted this day for you, Sophie Bug. I really did."

"Then why did you keep telling me not to get my hopes up?" she asked. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

"I was just trying to protect you," I told her. "He let me down a lot when I was little. I was afraid he'd hurt you." I sighed, listening to her breath." "And, maybe, I didn't want myself to get hurt either."

Finally, after a long pause, she turned to glance at me. "Really?"

Nodding, I picked up a discarded hair tie and pulled her matted hair into a messy ponytail, so it would be out of her face.

"You wanted to see him too?" she asked.

"A little," I admitted. "Yeah."

"Then why did you act like you didn't want to?" she said.

I shrugged. "I guess I thought, if I pretended like I didn't want to see him, I wouldn't feel so bad if he didn't show up. And I kind of felt like if I wanted to see him again, I'd be disloyal to moms somehow." I felt a tear slip down my face. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Soph. I'm so sorry."

She looked down into her lap. "Why didn't he come, Callie?"

"I don't know," I replied. It was hard, not having the right answers for her. I wrapped her in my arms and kissed her sticky, tear-stained cheek. My spirits lifted, just a little, when she hugged me back. "I love you, baby. Don't ever forget that."

"I won't," she said. "I love you too, Sissy. But can I be alone now? I just want to think for a while."

"Sure," I said. I turned, and left the room.

* * *

I held my fist to my father's door, willing myself to knock. But it was like my hand was paralyzed; it wasn't getting the signals my brain was sending. And in my chest, I felt a panic attack rising. I knew I would be in a lot of trouble with moms if they knew I was there, late in the day, in a bad part of town, on a street I didn't know. And even worse, that I'd gone through their private papers to find my dad's address in the first place.

But I'd gone through all this trouble, sneaking out and taking the bus to his apartment building. I had to confront him.

My hand was shaking. I closed my eyes tight. My blood pounded in my ears. Finally, I took a deep breath, and forced myself to knock, half-hoping he wasn't home. But within a few seconds, I hears footsteps coming from inside. The door swung open, and there he was.

We stared at each other for a long moment, until he spoke up. "Callie," he breathed. "You look just like your mother."

"Can I come in?" I asked.

"Of course," he said, stepping aside.

His apartment was small and shabby. In the lamplight, the first thing I noticed was how old he looked. He'd aged so much since I last saw him; more than he should've in six years. It made me feel a little sad. But his eyes were still the same ice blue I remembered.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm good. But thanks." I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, awkwardly. Might as well get right to the point. "Why didn't you come today?" I asked. I'd been mad at him when I'd set out to confront him; all the way to his apartment, as I sat on the bus, I'd planned what I was going to say. But now that I was there, speaking to him in person, my anger drained. I felt like a little kid again, and he was just my dad.

He ran his fingers through his thinning, silvery hair, and sighed. "I was planning to come, Cal. I really was. And I don't have a good excuse."

"You weren't drunk, were you?" I asked. My voice came out shaky.

"No," he said. "No. I haven't had a drink since-" his weathered face fell. "Since the accident."

"Then why?" I demanded.

"I just lost my nerve," he told me. "I was just about to head out, and I got to thinking, maybe you wouldn't want to see me. Maybe you were better off without me."

"Well, you really hurt Sophia," I said. "She was really looking forward to seeing you."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'll make it up to you. To both of you." He sat down in a sagging armchair. "Are you girls okay? Do the people you're living with treat you right?"

I sat down on the matching couch that faced him. "We love the Fosters," I told him. "They're amazing."

"That's good," he nodded, relieved. "I'm glad."

I picked at my nails nervously. "Has- has Bill told you anything about our lives since you left?"

"No," he frowned. "Why?"

"It's just been hard," I said, picking at my jeans. "This is our seventh foster home. A little bit before we came to the Fosters, we were staying with this guy, Brian." I felt my chin tremble. "He beat and molested us. He would've killed us if Sophia hadn't shot and killed him first."

My dad's eyes widened. "What? I don't understand."

"She killed him," I repeated.

"I heard you. It's just hard to believe," he said. "Sophia was always such a good little girl."

"She still is," I told him. "She did it because he was hurting us. It was self-defense." I touched my fingers to my nose, rubbing the tip.

My dad laughed a little, watching me. "You looked just like you did when you were little right now."

"Huh?"

"When you were little," he said. He smiled, bringing out the crinkles around his eyes. "You used to suck your thumb and rub your nose to sooth yourself. Your mom and I thought we broke you from that habit."

I dropped my hand. "I guess I don't realize I'm doing it most of the time." I cleared my throat nervously. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he said. "Anything."

"Why did you stop answering my letters? And how come you never came for us? We know you've been out for a year now."

He shook his head sadly. "I guess, maybe I was a little depressed in there. Whenever I got one of your letters, I was almost afraid to open it, wondering if it would be the one where you'd accuse me of murdering your mother. I wasn't sure if I could handle that."

I swallowed hard. His answer made me uncomfortable, because it sounded so much like the way I thought. He felt like he had to hurt me before I could hurt him, a pattern I'd repeated so many times in my life with people I cared about.

"I have been out for a year," he went on. "That's true. But I never forgot about you girls, Callie, I promise. I thought about you every day. I've been trying to get my life back together for you two. It takes a long time. It's not easy, finding a good job and a decent place to live with my record. But I'm here for you now. And you can take that to the bank."

"Please, just promise me one thing," I said.

"What?" he asked. "Anything."

"I want you to come over on Sunday. Please, don't let Sophia down again."

He nodded. "I don't, honey. I'll be there. You have my word."

* * *

**Lena**

"Poor baby," I sighed, watching Sophia out the kitchen window. "I hate to see her like that." She sat alone on the backyard tree swing, not even swinging, just sitting there, her head hanging down. "I can't believe her father didn't show up."

Next to me, Stef rinsed a dish and passed it to me to dry. "From what Callie's said, I don't know that I'm too surprised. The man doesn't have a great track record."

"It's getting cool out," I said. "I think she should come inside now." I set the dish towel down and slipped out the back door.

"Can I give you a push?" I asked.

Sophia turned her head to look at me. "No thanks."

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" I said. "It's been so long since I've pushed one of my kids on a swing. I'd kind of like to do it again, for old times' sake."

She shrugged. "Well, okay."

I smiled, and took the ropes in my hands. "Hold on tight." I backed up, pulling the swing with me, and let her go, giving her a push.

"I remember when Mike put this swing up for the kids," I told her, pushing her into the air again. "Brandon was eight, and the twins were seven. They were so excited, until it hit them that there was only one swing to share. I think they spent more time fighting over it than playing on it," I laughed.

"My dad never built us a swing," Sophia said, wistfully.

"But I'm sure he did other things to show his love," I said. It was starting to turn to dusk, and I saw fireflies flicker across the yard.

"Sometimes he'd bring candy home for us," she replied, as the swing returned for me to push again. "Sour gummy worms."

"That was very nice of him," I smiled.

"I want to get off now," Sophia said, stopping herself with her feet.

"Sweetheart," I said, kneeling down in front of the swing, so we were eye-level. "I know you're disappointed that your dad didn't come today. But it doesn't mean he's _never_ going to come. So don't give up hope yet, okay?"

"I'll try not to," she promised.

I reached out to hug her. She was wearing a sleeveless dress, and her arms were ice cold. "You know what always makes me feel better when I'm sad?"

"What?" she asked.

"A nice, warm, bubble bath," I told her. "Why don't you take one, get into your PJs, and then you and I can have some cuddle time before bed. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, with a genuine smile. "Mama?"

"What?"

"Callie said that she felt like if she wanted to see Daddy, it would be like being disloyal to you and mom."

I pulled my daughter back into my arms and kissed her. "Sophia," I said. "Callie doesn't have to feel that way, and neither do you. We're not hurt or angry that you still love your father. There's enough love for everyone. So, I don't want you to worry about that, honey."

She nodded. "I love you, Mama."

"I love you too, baby doll," I said, giving her another kiss. "Now, let's get you inside." I reached out my hand. She took it, and we walked back to the house together.

**To Be Continued**


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34.

**Callie**

"Callie, can you come here for a minute?"

I stopped in the hallway. I could see Stef in her room, perched on the edge of her bed. My palms began to sweat. Did she know I'd sneaked out earlier?

Reluctantly, I went into the bedroom and stood before her. "I was just going to bed. Is everything okay?"

"I just wanted to talk to you for a minute," she said. "Have a seat."

I sat down numbly. My moms weren't harsh disciplinarians, like some foster parents I'd lived with, so I wasn't afraid of whatever my punishment would be for going behind their backs; I could handle losing privileges that I didn't really care about anyway, or being grounded for a few days. And I trusted by now that they would never, ever hit me. I was mostly afraid of disappointing them. "Is everything okay?" I asked.

Stef smiled and I felt myself relax a little. "Everything's fine," she said. "I just haven't heard much out of you tonight. I wanted to ask you how you're doing. Are you okay? Anything you want to talk about?"

"I'm fine," I told her, swallowing a wave of guilt. "Thanks."

"Promise you'll come to us if you _do_ want to talk?"

I nodded, unable to look her in the eye. "Okay."

Before I could get up and leave, she spoke again. "I also wanted to tell you that I think you behaved very maturely today," she said. "I know you were hurt that your dad didn't show up too, not just Sophia. You held it together really well. I'm proud of you, love."

"You are?" I shakily asked.

"Yes," she answered. "I can see that you're learning how to handle things that are out of your control. You're really becoming an amazing young woman, Cal."

I sighed heavily, feeling horrible. For a moment, I wondered if she _knew_ what I'd done, and was using some kind of reverse psychology to get me to confess. "Don't be proud of me," I blurted, unable to take the pressure any longer.

She frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"I did something wrong," I admitted.

"You did?" her eyes searched mine, and she seemed genuinely puzzled. "Well, do you want to tell me about it?"

I looked away from her, my cheeks burning with shame. "I sneaked out and went to see my dad," I confided. "Earlier tonight."

She raised an eyebrow and frowned. "I don't understand, Cal. How did you even know where he lives?"

"I looked through your papers," I said quietly. "In the desk. I found his address. I'm _so_ sorry. I just _had_ to know why he didn't come. I needed answers." Hot tears sprung to my eyes. "I guess I'm not as mature as you thought."

"Honey," Stef sighed. "Come here. You look like you need a hug." She drew me to her and stroked my back. I hugged her tight, hungry for comfort and security.

When we parted, she looked me in the eye, meaningfully. "I understand wanting answers," she said. "I do. But I'm uncomfortable with what you did. I don't know your dad."

"He wouldn't hurt me," I assured her.

"I believe you," she said. "But I also know that the neighborhood he lives in isn't safe. And you didn't tell us where you were going. If something had happened to you, we wouldn't have known. We're responsible for your safety, love. And you're still a ward of the state right now. If something happened tonight, we could've lost both you and Sophia."

"I'm sorry," I repeated.

"Please don't do anything like that ever again," she said. "Because I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Are you going to punish me?" I asked, looking up.

"I'll have to talk it over with Mama," she said, cupping my chin in her hand. "But in the meantime, no more sneaking around. Okay? You can come to us for help with any problem you have, baby. Anything at all."

"I know," I nodded. "It won't happen again."

She nodded. "Thank you for being honest." Her curiosity must have gotten the better of her then, because she asked, "So what happened? With your dad?"

I shrugged. "We just talked. I barely recognized him. He got so old. When I saw him, I couldn't be too mad."

"Did he tell you why he didn't come?"

"He just got scared," I explained. "We was afraid we wouldn't want him in our lives."

"Isn't that interesting?" she said. "Both of you were afraid of the same thing."

"I guess so," I agreed. "I never really thought of it that way. He said I look just like my mom. We talked about when I was little, and I told him about The Brian Thing." I brushed my finger across my nose. "I made him promise to come on Sunday. He said he would."

"That's good," she said. "I hope he does."

"Mom?" I asked.

"Hmm?"

"Please, don't let Sophia know I went there, and asked him to come. I don't want her to think he's only coming because I asked him to."

"I won't," she promised.

"Thanks," I yawned. "Is it okay if I go to bed now?"

"Of course," she said. "Can I have a goodnight kiss first?"

I nodded, and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Goodnight, mom. I love you."

"Goodnight, slug-a-bug," she said, as she hugged and kissed me. "I love you too. And," she added, "I'm still proud of you. I always will be."

"Thanks," I smiled, before heading to my room.

* * *

When I got there, the lights were already off. Sophia was a dark lump in her bed. I crawled under my covers, thinking she was already asleep until I heard her sobbing, almost silently. I ached to tell her about my visit with dad, and his promise to come and see us. But I couldn't, just in case he got cold feet again.

"Soph?" I said quietly.

"What?" she said in a muffled voice.

"Do you want to sleep in my bed?" I asked her. "I don't want to sleep alone tonight."

I heard her bed creak as she slid out. I held up my comforter. "Come here." She climbed in and nestled into my side. "That's better," I said, nuzzling her freshly-washed hair.

Sophia wrapped her arms around my waist. "I'm sorry I was mean to you before," she apologized. "I didn't mean it."

I fluffed my pillow and laid back. "It's okay, baby. I'm not mad. I mean, sister can't get along all the time, right?"

"But I want _us_ to," she insisted. "I want us to always be best friends."

"Me too," I smiled, brushing my fingers across her tear-stained cheek. "You know what i was just thinking about?"

"What?" she asked.

"The first time I ever saw dad cry," I said softly, staring up at the ceiling. "You were three or four. It was when mom was working at Walmart. He took us there one day to pick her up. We were late, and you were being fussy, and dad was getting impatient. He helped you out of the car, and when he shut the door, he accidentally slammed it on your fingers."

"What happened?" she asked, enthralled by my story.

"You screamed and started to cry," I went on. "And when dad realized what he'd done, he started crying too. He felt _so_ bad. He picked you up and kissed your fingers and hugged you until you felt better."

"I don't remember that," she said. Her voice sounded far away.

"Well, I do," I said. "He never wanted to hurt you, Sophia. He'll come and see you. Don't worry."

**To Be Continued**


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35.

**Stef**

I climbed into bed beside my wife, massaging my temples gently with my fingertips.

"Headache?" Lena asked, looking up from her book to watch me.

"Little bit," I nodded.

She reached out to rub my shoulder. "Is something bothering you, honey?"

I fluffed my pillows and lay back. "Callie and I had an interesting talk tonight.

"What about?" Lena asked. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," I assured her. "She went through some paperwork and found Donald's address, and she went to his house to confront him about why he didn't show up today."

Lena chuckled. "Are you sure she's not your biological daughter?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, amused.

"I'm just saying," she said, "that the two of you tend to... take matters into your own hands. You're very similar in that way. Almost uncannily so."

I opened my mouth to protest, but couldn't come up with an argument.

"I feel bad, punishing her," I finally said. "She really is a great kid. And I do understand why she did it. It's hard for a girl, not having a good relationship with her father. I know from experience. But we know nothing about this man, and the neighborhood he lives in isn't exactly a safe place for a young girl to go wandering alone. She needs to understand that what she did was reckless. And the only way to do that is by showing her that her actions have consequences."

"You're right," Lena agreed. "You're absolutely right. Did you have a punishment in mind?"

I shook my head. "She's already in bed. Let's just sleep on it, and come up with something in the morning."

* * *

By breakfast, Lena and I had come up with a punishment for Callie. It wasn't as easy as it seemed; in many ways, she wasn't a typical teenager. She didn't watch much TV, and she didn't have many friends that she hung out with, or any after school activities. It almost seemed like grounding her would just be sentencing her to do everything she normally did. There was really only one thing we could take away from her that seemed meaningful.

So, while Lena started the Saturday morning pancakes, it was up to me to take our daughter aside and tell her what we decided.

Callie was sitting at the table, playing with her phone. As I came up behind her, I could see that she was posting a beautiful photo she'd taken on Instagram. She really did have a talent for photography. Lena was right that she and I were a lot alike in many ways, but Callie had an artistic eye that I didn't have. "Honey," I said, placing my hand on her shoulder. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," she said. "What's up?" She still gripped her phone in her hand.

"Come with me," I said, leading her out the door to the porch swing. When we were seated, I turned to her and looked her in the eye. "Mama and I talked over what you did yesterday," I told her. "And we both agreed that we'll have to punish you."

"Okay," she said, almost unaffected.

"Its not because we don't love you," I reminded her. "Its because we _do_. Punishments are there to keep you from doing something wrong a second time. Giving you consequences for your actions shows we care."

"I know," she nodded. "What are you going to do?"

"Well," I said. "We're going to take your phone and internet away this weekend." Two days didn't seem like much, but Lena and I never took the kids' phones away during the school week, in case they needed to get in touch with us in an emergency.

"And you're also grounded for a week, other than school, group, and your therapy appointment," I added. "Does that sound fair?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I guess so."

"Then let me have it," I said, holding out my hand. Callie reluctantly set her phone in my palm. I tucked it safely in my shirt pocket. "Thank you, love. You can have this back on Monday morning." I reached out and patted her back. "I hope we won't have to punish you often, slug-a-bug. This wasn't easy for us, you know?"

"It's okay," she said. "I deserve it. I just feel bad that I disappointed you."

I took her in my arms and gave her a quick hug. "I know, honey. But that's the beauty of second chances."

* * *

**Callie**

"Hey, Soph," said Mariana, from where she was perched in the arm of the couch. "Do you want me to fix your hair again?"

Sophia shook her head. "No thanks."

The night before, Bill had called and said our dad would be coming to visit us the next morning. So, after breakfast on Sunday, we sat in the living room waiting for him. I think part of Sophia didn't truly believe he was really coming.

"You sure?" She pressed, nudging my sister's leg with her foot.

"I'm sure," Sophia said, wringing her hands together nervously.

"Okay," Mariana shrugged. "Just thought I'd ask. I'll be upstairs if you change your mind."

After Mariana left the room, Sophia stood up and went over to Lena. "Mama, why isn't he here yet?" She asked. "Are you sure he's coming?"

"Bill said he'd be here, honey," Lena assured her. "We just have to be patient." She patted the cushion next to her on he couch. "Why don't you sit down with me for a minute?"

Sophia sat, and Lena put her arm around her and kissed her cheek. "There. Now to calm down a little, sweetheart," she said softly. "You're going to make yourself sick."

My sister had been like that all morning, anxious and jumpy. I wasn't much for prayer, but at that moment, I found myself praying silently that our father would keep his promise this time, and show up for her sake. I was so lost in my thoughts that when the doorbell rang, I jumped.

"That must be him," said Stef, from where she sat next me. "Do you want to get it, love?"

I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. "Um, yeah. Okay." I crossed the living room and slowly opened the door. And there stood my dad, looking as nervous as Sophia was, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

"Hi, dad," I said.

He smiled a small, shy smile. "Hi Callie. Look at you, all grown up."

"Do you want to come in?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Yes. Please." He followed me into the house.

"Hi, Daddy," Sophia said, shyly stepping forward.

Our dad's smile grew when he saw her. "Hey, squirt! Come here, let me see you. "

Sophia threw her arms around him, and he swept her up, practically lifting her off the ground, just like he used to when when she was little. She hugged him tight, her face hidden against his chest. When they parted, tears were streaming down my sister's cheeks.

Dad took her face between his hands. "Why are you crying, squirt?"

"I just can't believe you're here," she hiccuped. "I missed you, Daddy."

Watching them, I felt my own eyes well with tears.

"I missed you too," he said. " I can't believe how grown up you are. Last time I saw you, I think you were just learning to read."

"I'm twelve now," she told him.

"Twelve," he breathed. "And Callie's sixteen. Where has the time gone, kiddo?" He shook his head. "I can't believe how much the two of you look Colleen."

"I take that as a compliment," I said.

"It is," he replied. "Your mom was beautiful. Inside and out."

"You must be Donald," Stef said, as she and Lena stood up to introduce themselves.

"Yes," he said, reaching out to shake her hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Dad," said Sophia. "This is our-" she paused uncomfortably, looking from our foster moms to our dad. "This is Stef and Lena." She looked down, avoiding our moms' eyes.

"We're very glad you could make it, Donald," Lena said, trying to move along from the awkward silence that filled the room.

"Do you want to see our room?" Sophia asked him, grabbing his hand. "Its _so_ pretty."

"Sure," he said. He paused to glance over at our moms. "If it's alright with you, of course."

"It's fine with us," Stef nodded. "We'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

Sophia led our dad and I up the stairs to our bedroom door. "Here it is," she said proudly.

"Hey, this is nice," he said, looking around, taking everything in. "I like the color."

"Stef and Lena let us pick it ourselves," Sophia told him.

"Our _moms_," I quietly corrected, but neither of them seemed to hear me.

Sophia sat down on her bed and took her stuffed horse in her lap. Our dad smiled with recognition. "I can't believe you still have that," he said, gesturing to the toy. "We got that for you were just a little thing."

"Daddy?" said Sophia, playing with the horse's matted tail. "Why did you leave us?"

Our father sighed, his smile fading. "Its complicated, squirt. Sometimes, you think what you're doing is for the best. And you don't find out until much later that it wasn't. But don't think for a minute that I forgot about you or stopped loving you," he went on. "I love you kids more than you'll ever know."

"We've been through a lot in the last year," I said softly, as I sat down beside my sister.

"I know, honey," he said, rubbing the gray stubble on his chin. "Bill told me some of what's been going on in your lives. Girls, I'm so sorry for everything you had to go through because I wasn't there. I feel terrible. I've failed you in every way a father could fail his kids."

"It wasn't your fault, Daddy," Sophia said, in tears again.

He nodded weakly. "Thanks, squirt. That means a lot to me. You've always had more faith in me than I deserve. But the fact is, I _wasn't_ there for you. I'm here for you now, though. I don't have much to offer, but I'd do anything for you kids."

"All we really want is for you to sign the papers so we can get adopted," I told him. "Did you sign them?"

"I have them," he replied. "But I haven't signed them yet."

"Why not?" I asked, hugging myself, half-afraid of what he'd say.

"I just had to see if that's what you really want," he said. "I don't want you to jump into something because you feel like you have no choice. You're my daughters, and you're all I have of your mom. We haven't seen each other in so long. I just want to see if there's any chance of us being a family again."

"We _love_ the Fosters," I said. "Dad, this _is_ what we want."

"You mean you want us to live with you?" Sophia interrupted.

"I would love that," he answered. "Like I said, I don't have much to offer, bu I've been working hard, trying to make a life for us."

Panic rose in my chest. I wanted to beg him to sign the papers, to yell at him, just like I used to when I was a kid and I would get so mad at him. But I didn't want to ruin this day for Sophia, so I took a deep breath to calm myself. "So, you're not going to let us get adopted?"

"I didn't say that," he said. "I'm just saying that I want you to think about it, honey. When I sign those papers, it'll be permanent. Just give it a week or so and think it over. And then, if it's still what you want, I'll sign them. Does that sound okay?"

"I guess so," I said, trying to will away the hot tears that filled my eyes and burned them. If we waited this long, I supposed we could wait a little longer. "One week."

He looked toward the door. "Should we go back downstairs now? Your foster moms are probably wondering where we are, and I have to be going soon."

"Okay," I said, standing up.

We went back down to the living room. When our moms heard us, they came in. "You're leaving already, Donald?" Lena asked. "You're welcome to stay longer."

"Yeah, I have to catch the bus," he told her. "But thank you. And thanks for taking such good care of the girls."

"It's our pleasure," Stef said. "Callie and Sophia have been a tremendous gift. We love them very much."

"I can see that," he nodded. He turned back to us. "I'll talk to you girls again soon. Take care of yourselves."

"Bye, Daddy," said Sophia. "I love you."

"I love you too, Squirt," he said, leaning down to hug her. "Bye."

He hugged me next. "Bye, honey. I love you."

"I love you too," I said. "Bye, dad."

He started to the door, then paused, and reached into his pocket. "I almost forgot. I brought something for you." He took out a bag of candy, and handed it to me and Sophia. "I hope you still like these. They were your favorite when you girls were little."

I looked down at the cellophane bag in Sophia's hands. Sour gummy worms.

**To Be Continued**


	36. Chapter 36

Ch. 36.

**Callie**

After my dad was gone, I felt an emptiness inside me that I couldn't describe. I swallowed hard, and turned to my little sister. "Don't worry, Soph. We've waited this long. We can wait one more week. Then we'll just tell him we want him to sign the papers."

Sophia looked down, still holding the bag of sour gummi worms. "What if we don't _want_ him to sign them?"

My eyes widened with disbelief. "What are you saying, Soph?"

She shrugged. "I feel sorry for him, Callie. He seems so sad."

"I feel sorry for him too," I admitted, remembering the way he'd looked at us when he said goodbye. "But I don't want to live with him. I'm happy here."

"So am I," she said, wistfully, twisting the cellophane bag in her hands. "But we could be a family again! I miss him so much. You think I don't remember anything about our family, but I do! I remember us and Mom and Dad. We were so happy once. Sometimes I just want that back!"

"Quiet down," I told her calmly, placing my hands on either of her shoulders. "Moms will hear you." I glanced at the kitchen doorway, where moms were cleaning up in the kitchen, then looked her in the eye. "We can't get the old days back, Sophia. I'm sorry. But it can never be the way it used to be. Things have changed too much."

"I'm _tired _of everything changing," she said. She was on the verge of tears, but she tried to hide it from me.

"I know you are, baby," I sighed. "I am too. But we have a new life now. We need to move on, and forget about the old days."

"I can't _forget_," she said in a choked voice. "I miss Daddy. I- I think I want to live with him."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," I said. "You can't mean that, not after all we've been through. After all Stef and Lena have done for us. How could you be so ungrateful?"

Sophia's dammed up tears finally burst free. "I knew you wouldn't understand." She turned toward the back door.

"Sophia, wait!" But she already stalked out the screen door, slamming it behind her, rattling the windows. My shoulders slumped. I felt crushed.

"What is going on?" Stef said, hurrying into the living room, with Lena behind her. Their faces were full of concern. "Is Sophia okay, honey? Did something happen?"

"She's fine," I said. "I don't want to talk about it. I'm gonna go finish my homework." I headed upstairs before they could stop me.

* * *

Dinner was torture. Sophia barely said two words to anyone, and I felt just as glum. After we cleared our plates, Sophia went up to our room. Sensing she wanted to be alone, I stayed behind and did the dishes with Brandon.

"So how was your visit with you dad?" he asked, as I rinsed a dish under the faucet. "You guys didn't seem very happy after he left."

"We had a fight," I admitted. "She's just been so difficult lately. She never used to be like that, until our dad came back into the picture."

"It's her age," he told me, drying the dish with a towel and placing it in the rack. "Mariana was a pain in the ass when she was that age. Hormones, I guess. She'll outgrow it." He took another dish from me. "Didn't you ever go through a phase like that?"

I shook my head. "No. I was too busy taking care of an eight-year-old."

"That must have been tough," he said, thoughtfully. "Can I ask what the fight was about?"

I paused, my hands submerged in the soapy water. "It's our dad," I shakily admitted. "I knew seeing him was a mistake. He wants us to live with him. I don't want to, but Sophia does. Or at least she thinks she does. I don't think she's old enough to make those kinds of decisions. But she can be really stubborn when she wants to be."

"Have you told moms?" he asked.

"No," I said. "I don't want to hurt their feelings. I can handle this."

"I really think you should tell them, Cal," he insisted. "This is something they need to know."

"You think so?" I asked.

No nodded. "At the very least, they can talk some sense into her. Go talk to them. I'll finish the dishes for you."

He handed me a towel and I dried my hands. "Thanks, Brandon."

"Any time," he smiled, turning back to the sink.

* * *

I found Stef and Lena in the living room, watching TV. "Do you guys have a minute to talk?" I asked. They looked so cozy, curled up together on the couch. I almost didn't want to disturb them with my problems, but I knew I had to. Brandon was right. I needed to get everything that had happened off my chest.

"Sure, " said Stef. "We always have time for you, love."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I don't want to bother you."

"Callie," she chuckled. "Will you get over here?" She shut off the TV and moved over, patting the cushion between them. "Come sit with us. I have the feeling you need a mama sandwich."

I nodded and sat down in the valley between them. It felt comfortable and safe, like nothing could ever hurt me. I wished I could feel that way forever.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Lena asked, running her long, graceful fingers through my hair. "Mom and I have been a little worried. You girls seemed so quiet after your father left. Is everything okay?"

I shook my head, fighting back tears. "No. Its not."

I felt Stef straighten up beside me, protectively. "What is it, honey?"

I took a shaky breath; every part of me felt shaky. "Our dad invited us to live with him. And... I think Sophia wants to go."

Stef placed her hand on my arm. "What exactly did she say?"

"She was just saying that she felt sorry for our dad," I explained. "That she misses him. She was talking about being a family again."

Stef and Lena exchanged worried glances. "Your father isn't trying to force you to go with him, is he?" Stef asked, looking me in the eye.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "But he didn't sign the papers yet. He said he wants us to think about if getting adopted is what we really want first."

"It is still what you want, isn't it, honey?" said Lena. "For us to adopt you?"

"Yes," I said. "I want to be a part of this family more than anything I've ever wanted in my life. But..." I sighed. "You know that if Sophia decides to live with him, I'll have to go with her, right? We have to stay together, even if it's not what I want. We're a package deal."

"We know, baby," Stef said softly, resting her head against mine. "We don't want you to go either, but we know you have to do what you have to do sometimes."

"But it might not even come to that," Lena reminded us, calmly. "Sophia might not really know what she wants, herself." I glanced up at her. Her deep, dark brown eyes were clouded with sadness. I knew how much Sophia meant to her, and could only imagine what she was feeling. "Her emotions were running high, and she may have just been talking in the moment. She's seemed pretty happy here."

"She _is_ happy here," I said. "We _both _are."

"I know he meant well, but he was wrong to ask you to make a choice like that," Stef mussed. "Especially without us present. I don't even understand how he's thinking he can take care of you girls. From what Bill's told us, he works nights. I'm guessing he wouldn't be around all that much."

"I didn't know that," I said softly. I sighed, looking to them pleadingly, then forced myself to ask for help. "What do I do?"

"Try not to worry, honey," Lena said. "Give Sophia a chance to cool off, and mom and I will talk to her if you want us to. I have a feeling everything will work out."

I managed a small smile. Her optimism was hard not to believe in. "Thanks."

"I love you," she said planting a kiss on my forehead.

I kissed her cheek. "I love you too." I turned to hug and kiss Stef. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby," she said, pulling me closer and kissing my cheek.

* * *

The week had almost gone by, and I wasn't sure if Stef and Lena had talked to Sophia or not. If they had, Sophia hadn't said anything about it, and neither had they. Honestly though, my sister and I hadn't talked much at all since the Sunday our dad came. But I was starting to get worried, because I knew that when the week was up, dad would want to know our decision. So, on Thursday night, I decided I had to talk with Sophia myself. If moms hadn't been able to get through to her, maybe there was something I could say that would.

"Soph, are you sure you want to live with dad?" I asked, looking up from the homework that was spread out on my bed.

She shrugged, barely glancing at me. "I don't know. I just miss him so much, Callie."

"I know you do," I sighed, moving over to her bed. "But if we went to live with him, we'd be losing so much. We'd have to switch schools again... we wouldn't have this nice room, which I know you _love... _and you wouldn't have Mama to tuck you in at night. Mom told me dad works nights. So, he probably wouldn't have that much time for us. And if we aren't happy there, we wouldn't be able to just come back here."

"I never thought about that," she said quietly.

I reached for her hand. "Soph, I didn't want to tell you this, but I've been to dad's house."

Her eyes widened. "You have? When?"

"The day he didn't show up to see us," I explained. "I found his address and I went to find out why he didn't come."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice rising.

"I didn't want you to think he only came because I told him to," I said softly. "You wanted to see him so much. I didn't want you to feel bad."

She looked down sadly. "Oh."

"He wanted to come that day. He was just afraid he'd see that we were better off without him." I brushed back a strand of her hair. "I love dad, Sophia. But I think he was right about us being better off. It wouldn't be like it is here, at dad's house."

"He lives in this small apartment," I told her. "It's really shabby inside. I don't think he makes much money. And mom said the neighborhood he lives in isn't very safe. When I was there, I could hear people fighting in the other apartments. It was scary."

"Callie," Sophia said, watching me with wide, questioning eyes. "What would our mom want us to do?"

I sighed. Why did she always have to ask such hard questions? "I don't know," I admitted. "But I think mom would have really loved Stef and Lena."

"Really?" she asked.

I nodded. "I bet they would've been friends if they'd met." I saw some of mom in both Stef and Lena. Just, little things that reminded me of her, that made me feel so at home with them. I knew it didn't make any sense, but sometimes I felt as if she'd hand-picked them for us.

I stretched out beside my little sister, tucking my arm under my head. "I think mom would just want us to be wherever we feel happy and safe. I feel that _here_. This is the first place I've truly felt loved and wanted since she was alive. I don't have to worry about you here. I know you're being fed and taken care of. I feel like I can finally let out this breath I've been holding all these years."

I touched my finger to the bridge of my nose, trying to articulate a thought that had been in the back of mind for a long time, maybe because I had too much pride to admit it. "You've got a lot of years left to be a kid, Sophia," I finally said. "You're lucky you have that. I had to grow up fast because I had to take care of you. And you know I'd do it all over again if I had to. But I'm still a kid, too. And maybe I'm selfish, but living here, I feel like I can enjoy the last little bit of my childhood that I have left. And I want that. But if you really want to go with dad, you know I'll go with you."

A tear slid down my sister's cheek, and she quickly brushed it away. "I'm so mixed up inside. I don't know what to do."

I reached out and gave her a hug. "Try to imagine your life somewhere else instead of here. See if you miss the life we have now. If you do, then maybe staying here is the right choice."

Sophia turned away from me, then. She was quiet for a long time. I went back to my own bed to finish my English homework.

* * *

**Stef**

I woke up in the night, feeling disturbed. I glanced at the clock, and saw that it was past midnight, the time when I made my usual rounds to check on the kids. Careful not to wake Lena, I climbed out of bed and slid my feet into my slippers and pulled my robe on, then went out into the hall. Standing still for a moment, I tuned my ears to the usual nighttime noises of the house. My ears picked up something that didn't belong, a soft rustling come from Callie and Sophia's room. I opened the door. Squinting in the light of the nightlight, I could see Callie tossing and turning in her bed.

"No," she cried, her voice barely audible. Her covers were twisted around her legs. I winced. It had been so long since she'd had a bad nightmare. I was sure stress had triggered this one.

I leaned down to look at Sophia, who was sleeping soundly, glad she hadn't been disturbed. Then I sat down on the edge of Callie's bed and stroked her hair gently. "Callie, love? Wake up," I whispered. "It's mom. You're having a nightmare." I shook her carefully. "Honey, wake up."

Callie jerked in her sleep and sat up. Her eyes were frightened and filled with tears. _"Mom," _she sniffled, wrapping her arms around me.

"I'm here, baby," I soothed, clutching her to my chest. "Mommy's here. You're alright now." I rocked her gently back and forth. She clung to me, digging her fingers into my back. I wondered, not for the first time, what was going on in her head. She hardly ever talked about her nightmares, and I didn't ask; I knew a lot of them were about Brian and the shooting. Most of them involved blood. But while a part of me was curious, another part of me was afraid to know. The thought that struck me then was, how would she deal with these horrors without me or Lena there to comfort her?

I hugged her a little tighter. "It's okay," I whispered, pressing my lips to her forehead. "You're safe."

Finally, her tears subsided. "Will you stay with me for a little while?" she asked, still holding onto me. "Please?"

"Of course I will, sweetheart," I promised. "I'll stay as long as you need me."

She rubbed the tip of her nose. "Thanks."

I pulled back the covers for her. "Lay down and try to relax, honey. I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere."

She laid down, and I snuggled in beside her on the small twin bed. "Do you feel a little better now?"

"Yeah," she said. "A little."

"Good," I whispered, stroking her hair. "Close your eyes now."

She did, for a few second, then opened them again. "Mom?"

* * *

**Callie**

My bed was shaking. In a moment of panic, I wondered if we were having an earthquake. I blinked in the early morning light, trying to make my eyes hurry up and adjust. When they did, I saw Sophia perched at my bedside, and realized she'd been shaking me, trying to wake me up.

"What is it?" I groaned, rubbing my eyes. My head ached. "Are you okay?" I looked at my clock. We didn't need to be up for school for another hour.

"I have to tell you something," Sophia said. "I couldn't wait any more for you to get up."

"What?" I asked.

"I want to stay here," she said in a quick burst. "I don't want to live with dad anymore."

"Are you sure?" I asked, now more alert.

She nodded. "I'm sure."

"What changed your mind?"

"I did what you told me," she said. "I imagined what it would be like without moms, and Brandon, and the twins. It was too hard to think about. They're our family now. And then, I saw you and mom last night."

"Oh," I said softly. Stef had left at some point, probably early morning. But I clearly remembered her holding me in the night.

"She thought I was asleep," my sister went on. "But I was only pretending. You need her so much, Callie. Making you leave would be selfish."

"Are you sure staying here is really, really what you want?" I asked. "Not just for me, but for you too?"

"Yes," she said. "I can't leave. This is my home."

Smiling, I held my arms out for Sophia. "We'll tell dad tonight."

**To Be Continued**


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37.

**Callie**

Sophia went back to bed after she told me that she wanted to stay with the Fosters, but after she woke me up, I couldn't fall back asleep. I got out of bed, stepping on the cold floor with my bare feet, and went downstairs to see if anyone else was up and around. Stef was in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee and eating a bowl of cereal.

"Good morning, love," she said. "You're up early."

I smiled, hardly able to contain my excitement. "I'm glad you're up. I have some really good news to tell you!"

"You do?" Stef said. "Well, you sit right down and tell me about it."

I pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.

"It must be something pretty great," she said. "You're in the best mood I've ever seen you in in the morning."

I rolled my eyes, still smiling. "Sophia woke me up a little while ago and told me that she decided she doesn't want to live with our dad anymore. So, all we have to do is tell him we want him to sign the papers, and we can get adopted!"

Stef sucked in her breath. "Oh, Callie! That's wonderful, honey!" She pulled me into a quick hug and kissed me on the forehead. "I'm so happy!"

"Me too," I nodded, fixing myself a bowl of cereal. "Can we call him today and tell him before she changes her mind?"

Stef gripped her mug thoughtfully. "I don't know that we should spring this on him like that, honey. He'll probably be sleeping when you girls get home from school. I think we should set up a visit with him through Bill."

"Okay," I sighed.

She laughed. "Just be patient, love."

I spooned up a bite of cereal. "I'll try."

"But there's no reason we can't start making plans for the future," she told me. "Things we couldn't really think about before."

I looked up at her. "Like what?"

"Well," she said. "I was thinking maybe we could all take a family vacation this Summer. It's been a while since we've gone anywhere. We go camping every year, but maybe we could fit in another trip besides that?"

"I've never been on vacation," I told her. "That sounds really fun."

"And maybe we could get you your learner's permit, and I could teach you to drive?" she offered. "Would you like that?"

I sat up a little straighter. "That would be awesome! But I'm warning you now, I can barely ride a bike."

Stef laughed out loud. "Don't worry, honey. You'll do fine." She paused, taking a slow sip of her coffee. "We also need to start thinking about your education."

"What do you mean?" I asked her.

She set her mug back down, but still gripped it between her hands. "Do you remember when you first came here, and we were sitting here eating a snack, and I asked you what your goals for the future were? You told me that all you wanted was to turn eighteen and get custody of Sophia, so she wouldn't be in the system anymore."

That day seemed so long ago now, but I did remember it. "Yeah. Sort of."

"That made me very sad," she told me. "You're so bright, Callie. I feel like you have so much more to do in life. I'd love to see you go to college after high school."

I shook my head. "No. That's way too much money."

"Not necessarily," she said. "There's financial aid, and student loans, and I'm sure there are scholarships out there. Maybe even scholarships specifically for foster kids? Where there's a will, there's always a way."

"I guess so," I shrugged. "But I wouldn't even know what I'd want to study."

"You don't have to decide yet," she told me. "There's plenty of time for that."

I'd never thought much about having a career. I always figured I'd just find a steady job that would support me and my sister. But hearing Stef talk, I almost dared to let myself dream of another life. "Whatever I do," I ventured. "I know I want to help people. Kids like me and Sophia."

Stef nodded. "You know, I could actually see you as a social worker. You're so caring, and you always know the right things to say to people."

I considered that possibility for a moment, but then I remembered how scared Sophia and I used to get every time we saw a social worker. I wasn't sure if I could stand knowing that I caused some other kid to be afraid like that. "I don't know. Too many bad memories."

"Well," Stef said. "There are lots of other ways to help people. I mean, you could be a counselor, or a nurse, or a teacher..."

I bit my lip thoughtfully, as an idea occurred to me. "What about a cop, like you?"

Stef's eyes lit up. "Honey, if you became a cop like me, I'd worry about you every minute of the day. But I'd be so proud."

* * *

We'd just sat down to eat that evening when the doorbell rang. Stef set her napkin down on the table and sighed. "Now, who would be visiting during dinner?" She started to get up, but Jesus stopped her.

"Don't worry about it, mom. I'll get it." He slid away from the table and headed toward the front door. He came back into the kitchen a few moments later, and I knew something was wrong by the look on his face.

"Moms," he said quietly. "Some social worker's at the door. She wants to talk to you."

Stef and Lena glanced at each other, then got up and left the room.

"I'm scared," Sophia whispered to me. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," I said. "Come on." We got up from the table and quietly went to the living room doorway. Mariana, Jesus, and Brandon followed.

I guess I was expecting to see Bill standing there, talking to our moms, but it was a woman I didn't recognize. For just a second, I thought, maybe this wasn't about us. Bill was the only social worker we'd ever had.

"We've received notification that your license to foster has expired," the stranger was saying to Stef and Lena. "I'm sorry, but unfortunately without a current license, I'm going to have to remove Callie and Sophia from the home."

Instinctively, I reached for Sophia's hand, not just to comfort her, but as an anchor for myself. What was happening didn't feel real.

"Is this really necessary?" Stef asked. "We didn't get any notification. These are our kids. We're in the process of formalizing their adoption."

"I know," the social worker nodded. "And I sympathize, but I need to follow procedure. If I don't take them, I could lose my job."

"Could you possibly make an exception?" Lena asked her. "The girls have been through so much already..."

"Moms, it's okay," I sighed, speaking up for the first time. They turned around to look at me. "Come on, Soph. Let's go get our stuff together to take."

"But, Callie..." Sophia whined, confused. I felt terrible, but what else could we do? This woman was going to take us whether or not we wanted to go. All I could do was ignore the panic in my chest and pretend to be in control, for her sake.

Stef came over to us and put her hands on our backs. "I'll help you back an overnight bag, girls."

We followed Stef to our room- our beautiful new room, and looked around. I felt like crying. Sophia was already in tears. "Don't let her take us away," she sniffled, holding onto Stef's arm. "Please, mommy. I don't want to go!"

Stef's chin quivered. "Come here, baby," she said, sitting down on my bed. "You too, slug-a-bug." We sat on either side of her, and she wrapped us both in her arms.

"I'm so sorry, my loves," she whispered. "Mama and I feel terrible. This is all our fault. I don't know how we let this happen, but with everything that's been going on... I'm sorry. We'll make it up to you somehow."

I blinked backed tears. I'd never realized until then how hard it must be to be a parent. "It was just a mistake," I said, taking her hand. "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay," she said. "But I promise you, Mama and I are going to get an extension from the judge first thing in the morning. You'll be back in your own beds by tomorrow night."

"I'm scared," Sophia hiccuped. "What if we go to a bad home and they hurt us again?"

"No one is going to hurt you, honey," Stef reassured her. "It'll be okay. I need you to be brave for me, love bug."

"It's not like this is the first time this has happened," I reminded my sister. "We've always gotten through it before, haven't we?"

"But this is different," she said sadly.

I swallowed hard. She was right. All the other times we were taken from a foster home, we had nothing to lose. This time, we had everything.

"Callie and I will get some clothes together," Stef said, standing up. "Sophia, why don't you run to the bathroom and grab your toothbrushes?"

I pulled open my dresser drawer and started shoving clothes into our backpacks, feeling numb inside. Then when we were all packed, we went back downstairs.

"Are you girls ready?" the social worked asked.

"I guess so," I shrugged.

"You'll be home before you know it," Lena told us. "Keep your chins up."

"We will," I nodded, as she hugged and kissed each of us goodbye.

"Again, I'm so sorry about this," the social worker apologized.

I reached down for our backpacks. "I'll get those, love," Stef said, taking them from me. She walked us to the car parked in the driveway, and put the bags in the trunk and closed it. She turned around to look at us.

"You know we love you, yes?"

"We know," I nodded. "We love you too."

"We'll see you soon," she said, giving each of us a hug and kiss. And then, we found ourselves inside a county car once again, on our way to our eighth foster home.

* * *

Our new foster mom was an older woman named Helen. We sat at her table, barely a half an hour after being taken from our home, picking at plates of pasta covered in a watery marinara sauce.

"Not hungry?" she asked us. "I know the food's not great."

I shrugged, glancing over at my sister, who was frowning at her dish. "We kind of already ate at home," I fibbed. My stomach growled, thinking about the delicious dinner Lena had made, and we'd just sat down to. I could almost taste the roast chicken I'd only taken one bite of.

Helen took our plates. "How about some dessert?" she offered. "I baked cookies." She brought a plastic container to the table. "Help yourselves."

Sophia looked to me for permission, and I nodded. We each took two oatmeal cookies.

"So, how many foster homes have you been in?" Helen asked us. "In how many years?"

"This is number eight," I said. "In six years."

Helen shook her head. "That's rough," she replied. "I'm sorry." She brought the cookies back to the counter. "If you girls are done eating, it's time to get ready for bed. I expect you to be up early to help with chores."

"Our moms are coming to get us in the morning," Sophia piped up, the first words she'd spoken since we'd arrived.

"Still, I like to turn in early," Helen said. "I'll show you to your room."

We shouldered our bags and followed her down a dimly lit hall. The room we'd be sleeping in was a drab square with as bed, dresser, and nightstand. The first thing I noticed were the bars on the windows.

"Now, you girls are flight risks, so I'm going to have to take security measures," Helen told us. "I'm going to lock you in. I'm a light sleeper, so if you need anything, just knock on the wall and I'll come unlock the door."

"Can I go to the bathroom first?" Sophia asked.

She nodded. "Go ahead. It's right across the hall."

"I need to go too," I said, dully. I would never knock on the wall for her. It was humiliating. I'd rather pee my pants.

When we returned from the bathroom, Helen watched us get into bed. "Goodnight," she said.

"Goodnight," we mumbled, even though it was only eight-thirty.

I watched her shut the door, and I heard the lock click as she turned the key. Once we were alone, I went to the window and touched the cold, solid metal bars. The whole house was cold; nothing like home, where it was always warm and welcoming.

"It's like being in jail," I said to myself. I wasn't sure what Helen meant by us being a "flight risk." We hadn't tried to run away from a foster home in years. I wondered if she was told about The Brian Thing, and was just afraid of us.

I got back into bed, a million frightening thoughts running through my head. My first and foremost fear was fire. What if Helen couldn't come unlock the door for us? With the barred windows, we'd be trapped in a burning house. We'd die. That fear was followed closely by carbon monoxide poisoning, or one of us getting sick. Then, there were my night terrors. I'd had a bad nightmare just the night before, and any kind of upheaval was a trigger. I put on a brave face, trying not to show my sister how scared I really was. She was counting on me to be strong for her.

"Callie, I'm hungry" she said quietly.

I sighed. "You should've eaten your dinner, Soph."

She wrinkled her nose. "It was gross. Besides, I wasn't that hungry then."

"You'll have to wait until tomorrow," I said. "Unless you want to knock on the wall for Helen."

Sophia put her face in her hands and burst into tears. "I just want to go home, Callie. I want moms!"

"I want to go home too," I said, laying my hand on her back. Her body shook while she cried, and I rubbed her shoulders, trying to sooth her. Meanwhile, I bit back the mean voice in my head that was telling me this was why we shouldn't have gotten so attached. It just made things harder later.

"Here," I said, reaching for her backpack. "Take your Barbie and your horse and try to get some rest. Mom said she'd take care of this tomorrow. She'll come for us." I tucked her in, and fluffed her pillow for her.

"What if they can't renew their license?" she asked me. "What if we have to stay here? Helen's weird."

"That won't happen," I promised. "Moms wouldn't leave us here. We'd run away before staying here. " I lay back against my pillow and took her in my arms, rubbing her back. "Listen, if I have a nightmare tonight, I want you to wake me up before it gets really bad, okay? Promise me."

"I will," she promised.

I nodded. "Thanks. Now close your eyes, baby. Just pretend we're home in our room."

"Kiss me goodnight?"

"Don't I always?" I bent my head down and kissed her. "I love you, Sophia."

"I love you too," she sniffled, curling up against me. I yawned, and closed my eyes. When I did, all I could see was fire, engulfing the house we were trapped in. And I knew sleep wouldn't come easy that night.

* * *

**Stef**

My chamomile tea had gone lukewarm. I got up from the table and dumped it in the kitchen sink, then rinsed my mug. It was late, and I decided it was time to go to bed. I would have to be up bright and early the next morning.

I went upstairs, passing Callie and Sophia's room. The door was half-open, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small dark-haired sitting in front of the Barbie house. In the split second I'd seen her, it barely registered as unusual. _Sophia's playing with her dolls_, I thought, in the back of my mind. Then it hit that my youngest daughter wasn't there. It couldn't have been her.

I turned and opened the door, looking inside. "Mariana, honey?" I called softly. "What are you doing sitting here in the dark, my love?"

My daughter sniffled loudly, drying her eyes with her sleeve. "Nothing. I'm sorry."

I crossed the room, and sat down behind her, wrapping her in my arms. "You don't have to apologize, honey. Tell me what's the matter. Why are you crying?"

Mariana gulped in a shaky breath of air. "I should've given it to her."

"Gave what to who?" I asked.

"The dollhouse," she sobbed. "I should've let Sophia have it. It's not like I was using it. I was just being selfish."

"Baby," I soothed, hugging her tighter, kissing her tear-stained face. "Don't cry. It's okay."

"She loves it so much," Mariana went on. "And I was mean about it, and now she's gone."

"Sophia will be back," I promised her. "Callie too."

"I miss my sisters," she said through fresh tears.

"I miss them too, honey," I said, rocking her slowly. "But you shouldn't feel so bad. You weren't ready to give up your dollhouse yet, but you _did_ offer to share it with Sophia. I think that was very unselfish of you."

"You do?"

"Yes," I said. "Now, how about we get ourselves to bed? Things will look better in the morning."

I walked her to her room and tucked her under her covers. "Goodnight, my baby," I said, leaning down and planting a kiss on her cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said. "Goodnight, mom."

After she was settled, I went to my own room. Lena was already in bed, waiting up for me. "Is everything okay, babe?" she asked.

I slid into bed, and cuddled against her. "I was just up talking to Mariana," I explained. "She was feeling bad about the girls. I can't say she's the only one feeling a little guilty right now, though."

Lena petted my hair and pressed her lips to my forehead. "What's on your mind?"

"I keep going over what I should've, could've done so this wouldn't have happened. I keep thinking that if I'd stayed on top of things, and remembered to renew our license before it expired..." I sighed. "I was just talking to Callie this morning about family vacations and college. The girls must hate us."

My wife pulled me closer, so she could look me in the eye. "Honey, what happened wasn't your fault. I didn't remember to renew our license either. We're human, and we make mistakes. And I'm sure the girls don't hate us. They know how the system works. And I trust that they know how much we love them."

"I know," I said. "I just miss them so much."

"Me too," she agreed. "This house feels so empty without them in it."

I rubbed my temples tiredly. "I just hope they're okay."

**To Be Continued**


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38.

**Callie**

I could hear Brian's heavy footsteps coming toward my bedroom door, and I covered my head with the blanket. A sliver of light filled the room as he burst in, and came toward me. Laying as still as possible, I pretended to be asleep, while my heart raced in my chest. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of bed. "Get up, you fucking whore!" He screamed. Even in the dark, I could see the hate in his eyes.

"What did I do?" I cried, standing on my knees on the cold floor, utterly confused.

"Shut up, you little bitch!" He jerked me to my feet and shook me hard, screaming at me, hurting my arms. He was drunk; his breath smelled like sour beer. I closed my eyes, cringing as he raised his hand to hit me. I felt him slap me across the face, and my cheek stung. My hand immediately flew to where I'd been struck, and I felt hot, sticky tears on my face.

"Callie!"

I opened my eyes, gasping for breath. Somehow I'd gotten off the floor and onto my bed. Sophia sat next to me in the dark. She was crying too; I figured Brian's shouting must have woken her. I could see her wet eyes shining in the moonlight.

I sat up. "What's happening?" My heart was pounding so hard I was sure she could hear it too. I looked around in the dark corners for Brian, remembering the fear I'd felt just seconds ago that had seemed so real. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the light, I could see that he wasn't there. He never had been; he was dead. But my cheek still burned where he'd slapped me.

My little sister threw her arms around me and hugged me hard. "I'm sorry," she sniffled. "I didn't know what else to do. You wouldn't wake up."

"What?" I drew the thin blanket around me, shuddering.

"You were having a nightmare," she said softly. "You were crying and stuff. I tried shaking you, but you wouldn't wake up. So I hit you. I'm sorry, sissy."

Finally starting to piece together what had happened, remembering where we were, I drew Sophia closer, wrapping the blanket around both of us. "It's okay," I said quietly, listening for any signs that we'd woken Helen up. But the house was silent. "You only did what I asked you to do."

"You're not mad?" she asked, looking up from where her head rested against my chest.

I shook my head no. "I'm proud of you, baby. I told you to wake me up, and you did. Besides, you didn't hit me very hard." I kissed her forehead and lay back, pulling her down with me. "It's okay now. Go back to sleep."

She cuddled against me and closed her eyes. I lay awake, longing for Stef to comfort me. But she was home, and I was here, and I couldn't be the kid right now. I had to be the parent again, for Sophia.

* * *

I couldn't remember when I'd fallen asleep after that. But I must have, at least for a little while, because one minute, I was laying in the pitch black room, missing home and watching over Sophia, and the next, pale sunlight was filtering through the bars on the bedroom window.

I looked around, groggy and confused. Sophia was curled up next to me, the scratchy sheet wrapped around her legs. I glanced at the clock radio on the nightstand. It was five forty-five. I had to pee badly, but I didn't want to wake my sister, and I certainly didn't want to knock on the wall for Helen to get up. I wasn't sure why I felt so strongly about the knocking thing. I guess it was just a pride thing; I wanted to preserve some of our dignity.

"Callie?" Sophia rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched.

"Good morning," I said, managing to smile a little.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," I answered. "I guess so."

She snuggled closer to me. "I was really scared last night."

I combed my fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry, Soph. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I know," Sophia nodded, curling closer to me. "Callie?"

"Hmm?" I yawned.

"I want to go home."

"Me too," I said, stroking her back.

"Do you think Mom will come for us today?" she asked me.

Just as I opened my mouth to tell her that of course Stef would come, we heard a key turn in the lock outside our door. Helen looked in, dressed in slippers and an old housecoat. "Good," she said. "You're up. Go ahead and get dressed, then we'll have breakfast and get to work."

* * *

**Stef**

I woke up the next morning with a heaviness in my heart, and for a long, hazy moment, I couldn't remember why. Then, my brain fog cleared and it hit me all over again. My babies were gone, taken away.

I ran my hands through my tangled hair, not bothering to do anything with it, and threw on my bathrobe and went down to the kitchen. I felt as if I were on auto-pilot. "Please tell me there's coffee," I muttered, when I saw my wife standing near the counter. I paused when I realized that she was on the phone.

She nodded at me, and pointed toward the coffee pot. I poured myself a mug of muddy black coffee and took a sip.

"I understand," Lena said into the phone. "But isn't there something you could do?"

She paused a minute, and her face fell. "Please, try to see the situation from our point of view."

Another long pause. "Yes, I understand. Thank you." She hung up the phone hard. "For nothing," she mumbled under her breath.

"What's wrong?" I asked her, dreading bad new. "Tell me, love."

Lena raked her long, slender fingers through her curls, then sat down at the table. "That was someone from the courthouse," she explained. "I tried to talk them into giving us an extension, but the woman I spoke to said there's nothing the judge can do today. It looks like the girls are going to have to stay in the other foster home over the weekend.

"No," I said, looking into my mug.

"Honey, what else can we do?" my wife sighed.

"I'll tell you what," I said, dumping the rest of my coffee down the sink. "I'm going down there, and I'm not coming home without our kids."

* * *

It was late when I finally got everything sorted out at the courthouse, after nine o'clock. All that was left to do was get my daughters. The social worker accompanied me to their foster home, where they were staying with a woman named Helen.

I rang the doorbell and waited. Finally, an older woman answered. "What?" she asked.

I cleared my throat. "I'm here for my daughters," I said firmly. I looked down at the ring of keys in her hand, thinking horrible thoughts. "Where are they?"

"Hold on," said Helen. "I'll get them." She crossed her living room to a closed door and unlocked it. "Girls, your foster mother is here," I heard her say.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I clenched my jaw, heat rising up my neck to my cheeks. "She locked them in their room."

The social worker placed her hand on my arm. "I'm sure they're fine. We'll deal with it later."

Before I could open my mouth to reply, Callie and Sophia came out into the living room. Sophia's face lit up when she saw me. "Mommy!" she cried, running into my arms.

"Hi, baby," I breathed, catching her and hugging her tight. "I missed you!" I held out my free arm for Callie, pulling her into the hug. "Both of you, so much."

"We missed you too," Callie said, resting her chin on my shoulder.

"I thought you forgot about us," said Sophia.

Callie elbowed her lightly in the ribs. "We knew you'd come for us eventually."

I planted a kiss on each of their cheeks. "I'm sorry it took so long. I came as soon as I could. But I would never forget about you. I love you both too much."

I let go of the girls after a few more seconds, so they could gather their things. I was left alone in the living room with the social worker and Helen, and I couldn't keep my mouth closed for another minute. "So, you locked my kids in their room?" I asked the older woman. "Was there a reason for that?"

The social worker cleared her throat nervously.

Helen sniffled a little, making a dry sound with her nose. "I know what they did. I don't mind giving those girls a place to sleep, but I'm not about to take a chance and end up with a bullet in my head."

I looked past Helen's shoulder to see the girls standing by the bedroom doorway, holding their bags. "Come on, my loves," I said quickly, hoping they hadn't heard Helen's and my exchange. "Lets get you home."

I grabbed their bags and ushered them quickly out of the house and to the car. Once they were in the backseat, and we were on our way to the house, Sophia spoke up behind me. "Mom, are people always gonna be afraid of us?"

I sighed. They'd heard. "Don't listen to that woman, honey. Either of you."

"But that was why she locked us up in that room with bars, right?" Sophia pressed. "Because she thought we might hurt her?"

I watched my daughters in the rear view mirror for a moment. Sophia eyed me intently, and Callie seemed sullen, her hair hanging down around her face. "People fear what they don't understand, Soph," I told my little girl. "Unfortunately, ignorance may be something you'll have to deal with from time to time, from people who don't know the whole story about what happened to you. They'll think what they want to think."

"I don't like it," she said sadly.

"I don't like it either," I replied. "It isn't fair. But that's the way life is sometimes. Just know that what other people think doesn't matter. You have a family that loves you unconditionally, and we know the truth. That's all that matters."

* * *

**Callie**

Stef was quiet the rest of the way home. She kept her eyes on the road, but she seemed a million miles away. Sophia was even quiet; we both sensed that Stef wanted to be alone with her thoughts.

When we finally pulled into the driveway, my heart lifted. I was anxious to get away from the awkward silence of the car, and excited to be back home, in our warm, safe house again. It was like the sad coldness of Helen's house had seeped into my bones. I unbuckled my seat-belt and hopped out of the car before it even completely stopped. Stef grabbed our bags, and we went inside.

Lena was waiting for us. "Hi, girls! Welcome home!" She gave us each a bear hug. "I hope I never have to say those words again."

"I missed you, Mama," Sophia told her.

"I missed you too, sweetheart," she smiled. "Things weren't the same around here without the two of you. You're probably hungry. I'll fix you something to eat." She turned to Stef. "You too, love."

Lena led us into the kitchen and made us grilled cheese sandwiches and heated up some tomato soup. My stomach growled loudly as I sat down at the table.

"I'm starving," Sophia said, taking a bite of her sandwich. "The food at Helen's house was really bad."

Stef picked at her sandwich tiredly.

"Honey, are you all right?" Lena asked.

Stef shrugged. "Can we talk in the other room?"

"Sure, of course we can," she nodded. She turned back to us. "Go ahead and eat, girls. We'll be right back."

They went into the living room. "What happened, Stef?" Lena asked her. Her voice was low. I strained my ears to listen.

"Lena, I'm so furious, I can't even speak," Stef said in a loud whisper. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "That woman had our daughters locked in a room with bars on the window!"

"Oh my gosh," Lena breathed, shocked. "Those poor babies." She reached out to her wife, giving her a hug. Stef pulled her close and clung to her.

"Honey, calm down now," Lena said quietly. "It's okay. The girls are alright." She pushed Stef's hair back and kissed her forehead. "You've had a long day sweetheart. Why don't you go upstairs and lay down? I'll bring your dinner up in a little bit."

A few seconds later, Stef and Lena came back into the kitchen. "Girls," said Stef. "Would you mind terribly if I went to my room to rest? I know you just got home, but I'm exhausted."

"We don't mind," I said quickly. "Go ahead."

"Thanks," she smiled. "We'll spend more time together tomorrow. I love you both."

"We love you too," I nodded. She smiled, then turned and went upstairs.

Lena poured us each a glass of milk, then rejoined us at the table. "So, are you girls glad to be back home?"

"Yes," I answered. "It's great."

"We missed everything about this house," Sophia told her. She had a milk mustache. "Especially your cooking."

Lena laughed, taking a napkin and wiping off my sister's mouth. "We all missed you too," she told us. "Even though you were only gone one night." She stood up, and put Stef's soup bowl in the microwave to reheat it. "I'm gonna run this up to your mom," she said when it was heated. "She missed dinner tonight, too."

"Is she okay?" I asked.

"She'll be alright," our foster mom explained. "She's just tired. She waited at the courthouse all day to talk to the judge."

I swallowed the last bite of my sandwich. "She did?" I felt my heart squeeze with love.

Lena nodded. "Yes. She was determined to bring the two of you home today."

Tears pricked my eyes. "Mama?"

"What, sweetie?"

"Can I bring mom her dinner?"

"Of course you can, if you want to," Lena smiled, handing me a plate with the sandwich on it. "Thank you, honey."

I went upstairs and knocked softly on the bedroom door. No one answered, so I let myself in. Stef was laying on the bed, sound asleep. I set the plate on the nightstand, then sat down on the edge of the bed. "Mom?" I whispered, gently shaking her arm

Stef opened her eyes and looked at me. "Callie, my love," she yawned. "I was just resting my eyes. Did you need something?"

"I brought you something to eat," I told her.

"Thank you," she smiled, sitting up. "That was sweet of you."

Without giving it a second thought, I leaned in and wrapped my arms around her ribs, giving her a tight hug; it was something that came so easily now.

"What's all this love for?" Stef teased, hugging me back. "Not that I'm complaining."

I let go of her and sat back, looking her in the eye. " Mama told me what you did for us," I said. "How you waited at the courthouse all day. And... I just wanted to say thank you."

Stef reached out to squeeze my hand. "You're welcome, love. But I only did what any mother would do."

"Well, thanks for fighting for us anyway," I said. "It means a lot to kids like us."

Stef smiled, bringing out little crinkles in the corners of her eyes, which were wet with tears. "I'll always fight for you, Callie. You're my little girls."

I nodded, then threw my arms around her and gave her another hug. "I love you so much, mom."

She kissed my forehead, pulling me closer. "I love you too, baby" she breathed, stroking my arm. "And now that you're home, no one is ever going to take you away from us again."

"I know," I said. I was going to make sure of that, but there was one more thing I had to do.

**To Be Continued**


	39. Chapter 39

**Author's note: to everyone who's been following this story, I am so sorry it's taken me so long to update. I cannot apologize enough for leaving everyone hanging. There was a recently a death in my family, and I haven't been in the right head space to write, but I would NEVER give up on this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter. And stay tuned for the conclusion soon!  
**

Chapter 39.

**Callie**

I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw a light shining through my dad's apartment window. I hadn't missed him; he hadn't left for work yet. I knocked on his door, remembering how upset Stef had been when I'd come here before. And I thought of her back at home, where I'd left her sleeping. I wondered what she would think if she knew I was back here again.

I shook my head, trying to chase the feelings of guilt away, when I saw the dingy curtain on my dad's window move, and his door open.

"Hi, dad," I said, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Callie," he said, sounding surprised. His forehead wrinkled with concern. "What are you doing out so late? Are you okay?"

"I need to talk to you," I told him. "Please. Can I come in? It's kind of important."

He glanced down quickly at his watch. "Sure, honey. I have a minute before I have to leave." He let me in the apartment and closed the door.

"So, what's up, kiddo? " he asked. "Did you and Soph make any kind of decision about where you want to live?"

I nodded. "That's what I want to talk about, dad." I sat down on the saggy sofa, and he sat across from me. I chewed the inside of my cheek nervously, wondering how I should even start to tell him what was on my mind. I decided to just go ahead and get to the point."Th-the other night," I began, "a social worker came and took us away from Stef and Lena. It wasn't because they did anything bad," I clarified. "Their foster license expired. But it was _awful_. The lady we stayed with locked us up in our room. There were bars on the windows, like we were animals. Sophia was really scared. And I was too."

My father looked down at his calloused hands. The expression on his face was unreadable; he had that same way of shutting down, like me. We both put walls up. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, sweetheart," he finally said. "That sounds terrible."

"It was," I agreed. "And while we were there, all we wanted was to go home. To the Fosters." I cleared my throat, knowing that what I was about to to say would likely be one of the hardest things I'd _ever_ have to say. "Dad, I love you, and Sophia does too. You'll always be our father. But I came to ask you again to please, sign the abandonment papers, so we can get adopted. We had a good life with you and mom, and we'll never forget those days. But we have a new life now. We're happy and stable. I just don't want you to confuse Sophia more than she already is. The Fosters are what's best for us right now."

My dad nodded slowly, staring at his lap. "I've had this picture in my head for so long of the three of us being a family again. It was what kept me going all that time I was behind bars. It's hard to let go of that"

A lump formed in my throat. "I know, dad." My eyes stung as I reached for his hand.

He shook his head. "I keep thinking about the day you were born, Callie."

"Me?" I asked, raising my head.

He nodded again. "I'll never forget the moment when the doctor handed you to your mom and I. You were so small, so beautiful. It was like a dream come true for us. I never knew I had that much love inside me until I held you in my arms."

I swallowed hard, and my tears spilled over. "Daddy."

Sniffling, he pulled me into his arms and hugged me tight, rocking me. "I know what I have to do, honey," he whispered. "I've known it all along. I have to do right by that tiny baby girl. Both of my little girls. So I'm gonna sign your papers, and give you the life you deserve." He pressed a soft kiss to my wet cheek. " I'll bring them over tomorrow."

* * *

After I said goodbye to my dad, I left, closing the door behind me, and walked toward the curb. My tears were cool on my face in the night air. I wiped them away with the back of my hand, and got in the car.

"What did he say?" Lena asked, once I was buckled in. She frowned when she noticed my tear-stained face. "You look like you've been crying, honey. Is everything okay?"

I smiled the smile I'd been trying to hold back. "Everything is great. He's gonna sign the papers!"

Lena broke out in a grin and wrapped her arm around my shoulder, hugging me to her side. "That's wonderful news, honey. I'm so happy!" She squeezed my hand lovingly. "Wait until mom hears. She'll be so excited."

"Thank you for understanding why I needed to come here, mama," I said. "And thanks for bringing me over."

She stroked the back of my hand with her thumb. "I didn't mind doing it, Callie. We both know you would've come here whether I brought you or not. At least if I drive you, I can make sure you get home safely."

"Still, thank you," I said.

"You're welcome, sweets," she smiled. "No, what do you say we get ourselves home? I know you must be tired."

I nodded. Home. "That sounds good to me."

* * *

The next afternoon, our dad did come over, with the signed papers. Sophia cried when he handed them to me.

"What's the matter, Squirt?" he asked her, smoothing down her hair.

She sat down on the sofa. "I just feel sad," she said. "I can't help it."

My dad knelt down on the floor in front of her. Her took her small hands between his, looking her in the eye. "This is hard for me too, kiddo. But we both know it's the best thing to do."

He sighed softly. "It's not fair for a girl to grow up without a mom, Sophia. You don't have yours because of me. It would be selfish of me to take you away from here, where you have two moms to raise you."

Tears sparkled in his eyes; I felt my own eyes sting. Timidly, I placed my hand on his shoulder.

"This is a really nice house," he went on. "I could never give you anything like this. And Stef and Lena are good people. I can tell they love you girls a lot. I feel good about leaving you here with them, where you can have the kind of life you deserve. You girls deserve the world."

"But you won't be our daddy anymore," Sophia sniffled.

"Is that what you're worried about?" He shook his head. "That's not true, Soph. I'll always be your daddy. You and Callie are a part of me. Nothing could change that, or my love for the two of you."

"Promise?"

"I promise," he nodded. "This isn't goodbye, Squirt. We can still see each other now and then."

"Can we visit you sometimes?" she asked him.

"I'd love that," he agreed. "If it's alright with your moms." He glanced back at Stef and Lena, silently asking their permission.

"It's fine with us," Stef gently nodded. "And Donald, you're welcome to visit the girls here, too."

"Thank you," he smiled, standing up. "That means a lot to me." He bent down and gave Sophia a hug.

"Bye, daddy," she said, holding onto him. "I love you."

"I love you too, kiddo. I'll see you soon."

"Bye, dad," I said, as he took me in his arms and hugged me. "Thank you," I added in a whisper.

He winked. "Good luck, honey. I love you."

"I love you too," I nodded.

And then he left. I watched him walk down the sidewalk toward the bus stop. When I turned around, I was in Stef and Lena's arms. Sophia too. I held onto them, hugging them tight.

"Are you girls going to be alright?" Lena asked us. "We understand if you need some space to think, and let everything sink in."

"I'm actually okay," I told her. I was so excited, I could hardly stand it. But I managed to keep it all in, not knowing where Sophia was, emotionally, after being so upset moments ago.

"How about you, Soph?" Stef asked my sister. "How are you feeling, love?"

"I'm okay, too," Sophia said. "I'm happy." She smiled to prove it.

"You know what?" Stef laughed. "I'm happy too." She pulled us back into a hug, and kissed the tops of our heads.

**To Be Continued**


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